


Midnight Hearts

by Daisyflo



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Brief Mention of Blood, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, HEA, Nightmares, No Pregnancy, Partial amnesia, Rey Nobody lives, Rey kills Palpatine, Sharing a Bed, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Strangers to Lovers, Tags Contain Spoilers, canonverse, death (Palpatine), mentions of childhood trauma (same as canon Rey), technically matchmaker Leia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:27:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23436925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daisyflo/pseuds/Daisyflo
Summary: He knows this smile well too much, he’s learned to master it too: not too much, but just enough to give a good impression. Hers is perfect; like she’s done it at least as much as he has. Her eyes meet his in a breath, and Ben feels his heart drop to his knees.Ben Solo, prince of Alderaan, is to be engaged to Senator Palpatine's granddaughter, Rey. Her presence awakens something in him, along with feelings and truths neither of them would have suspected.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 191
Kudos: 499
Collections: Ijustfellintothissendhelp





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Half of this story is already prewritten but I was weak and wanted to post haha. I promise this will be soft and HEA ♥

“Do I really have to?”

“You do if you want to access the throne.”

“Which I don’t.”

There are many things that could freeze Ben’s blood on the spot, but his mother’s glare is probably the most terrifying one. Her brown eyes meet his through the mirror then she turns, making him stop halfway through the braid he’s working on.

The specific hairstyle she requested is intricate, easy to fail- but he learned the ways of Alderaan braids years ago. Really, the only thing making it difficult is his mother’s habit of moving about and talking about the most displeasing things at the least convenient times.

“Ben.” Her eyes are still keenly fixed on him as he vainly tries to catch the unfinished braid and avoid the conversation. “You becoming king would give me more time for other important matters. Marrying this girl would-”

“Give you a good insight on him,” Ben cuts her off as he finally gets a hold on the rebellious braid. “I know.”

They’ve been through this a million times, now. He knows exactly what she’s going to say next.

“You know I’m not using you, Ben.”

His free hand takes the comb and starts brushing a good part of her hair before his fingers tangle back into it, starting another braid at the base of her neck. It takes a minute for her words to make it to his ears, and another for him to repress a sarcastic smile. He stops briefly to look up and share another look with his mother through the mirror.

“Of course not,” he murmurs carefully. “Just my free will.”

“You can say no.”

Repressing a chuckle feels almost impossible as he tries to focus back on the braid. “Can I?”

“It would make everyone organizing today’s reception very upset, but yes. You can.”

No chuckle leaves him, this time. They’ve had this conversation before, but having it again feels like a necessity as the dreaded hour draws closer. He was the one asking to help, after all. But he hadn’t planned on helping _this way_. Yet, he agreed to this. Reluctantly, yes- but did agree.

“You asked how you could make things right.,” his mother adds as his fingers start dancing through her greying waves again, “this is it. You doing this is the best option I can give you.”

Her voice is soft and lower than before. Ben knows what this means; she’s trying to show empathy without making it too obvious. It’s how this family works: appeasing tension before things get out of hand with feelings and words, and switching to the next task that will keep them busy enough to avoid conversation. It’s why his uncle went on this quest, why his father is so absent; no one wants to dive too deep into the reason why this family is such a mess. 

Which leaves him with his mother. His bossy, talkative angel of a mother and her grand plans for him, for Alderaan, but mostly for the Resistance.

It’s always been like this: Resistance, Kingdom, Family, in this specific order. It’d taken him joining his uncle’s temple and talking with other kids to realize having such absent parents wasn’t normal, but neither was being the son of war heroes. Being born from a princess turned General and a scoundrel that somehow ended up saving the whole galaxy, normal wasn’t exactly part of Ben's life. Most children didn’t grow up in palaces, nor surrounded by strangers who seemed to know them.

That’s the part he always hated: the assumptions based on his name and the people who came before him. Because his mother is a great politician, he should be wise. Because his uncle is a legendary Jedi, he may follow this path, too. Because his father is incredibly charming and sociable, so should he. They have this idea of him, of who this mix of amazing people should’ve made him into, and instead, he’s the complete opposite. He wonders, sometimes, if these expectations are precisely what forged him this way. Maybe, in his desperate need to not be influenced by them, he ended up doing exactly that. His unease regarding any social gathering, his reluctance for the spotlight, the way things ended with Luke- it’s all too much to be just a coincidence. One doesn’t disappoint that much without, somehow, meaning to.

The pointed look his mother gives him is enough for Ben to realize he’s been lost in his thoughts for too long. “Sorry,” he murmurs, shaking his head before going back to the last braid. “Yes, you’re right.”

He can feel her trying to read him, asking him for an access he’s long denied her. It’s been years since they last communicated like this, but she tries every now and then, tentatively grazing his mind with hers only to be greeted with closed doors.

“Ben...”

“All done,” he cuts hastily as he arranges one last golden pin in her hair. There isn’t any use in trying to argue with her: she has to be right and have the last word. Of course, she always does, which makes any conversation about the Resistance and everything else more painful than it should be. Her attachment to the cause is strong, almost maternal, and Ben feels himself cringe at this specific thought. He saw the Resistance grow as he grew up himself, always in the shadow of this weird twin he knows he shouldn’t be jealous of.

She believes in hope and fighting evil. He believes in a world where everything doesn’t have to be straight bad or good- Luke never agreed, of course. It’s just one of the many differences between him and his family.

“This is beautiful,” his mother finally says as she gets up. She sounds tired of this mask they’re putting on, but does it anyway, and Ben can’t help but join her. It’s the language she’s always used, and some part of him revels in this tiny revenge. “You should get ready, too.”

She doesn’t say it, but Ben knows what she means. _Ready to look the part_. She makes it sound like such a common thing when it feels like his whole life is about change. Not that he really likes the current one, but being thrown at a complete stranger with the mission to essentially spy on them for the rest of his days almost makes him regret leaving Luke.

Still, he puts on a smile as his mother pats his cheek affectionately.

**\- - -**

A muffled groan leaves Ben as he follows his mother’s vigorous strides around the palace. He was never fond of the formal clothes when he was a child and isn’t much more inclined to like them right now. The fabrics are too thick, the embroideries itchy against his skin with every step he takes- the pants are way less decorated than the tunic, thankfully. His mother must’ve noticed his irritation, but doesn’t react to it; she keeps walking at an alarming speed for someone her size, ignoring him as he tugs at the deep blue tunic again with a sigh.

He knows these corridors like the back of his hand. They’re long, empty, save for the many portraits covering the walls. Family portraits, mostly- no one he ever met, but names he heard about while growing up. He can’t help looking at them anyway, studying their faces. He used to spend hours there as a child, imagining what their lives were like, what their voices sounded like. Sometimes, if he focused enough, he could hear them, clear and oddly familiar. It feels a little sad, now that he’s older; just another instance of how lonely his childhood was between these walls. 

A sour thought pops in his mind as they veer towards the North tower: _maybe this marriage will be his way out of this place._ The exact same thought had crossed his mind before when he’d agreed to follow his uncle and become one of his apprentices. Maybe this time, he won’t have to come back. As much as his family’s history resides here, he never once felt a connection to this place. Maybe the girl will like it, though. _Kriff_ , he hopes she hates it.

“ _Ben!_ ”

A series of curses echoes as he stumbles upon his mother, his boots caught in the long drape thrown upon her shoulder. Lucky for him, she’s the most clear-headed of them and grabs his arms with a firm grip. “Get out of your head,” she murmurs teasingly.

Easier said than done when she’s not the one being led to whatever this scheme will end in. Of all the people of this unknown family, she might be the only one who chose her partner- but then again, this isn’t exactly the happiest union he’s seen. Not that he’s been around many couples, but he’s pretty sure happy partners don’t avoid each other for weeks or argue nonsensically. For the second time that day, Ben is thankful his mother can’t read him as easily as she used to. Though given the look she gives him, she must’ve at least caught the main ideas flowing through his mind.

“Try smiling,” she suggests as they reach the lofty balcony overlooking the lake.

She marks a pause to readjust his collar then turns to the large glass door and steps outside, her eternal warm smile on her lips as she walks to the old man standing in the middle of the balcony. A succession of greetings and civilities ensues, all dulcet voices and forced smiles. Ben doesn’t move.

It’s like his feet have sunk into the cobbled floor, and for a brief second, running away sounds like a perfectly reasonable idea. The unknown always intrigued him more than it scared him, but this- he doesn’t even know her name. Doesn’t even know what she looks like. _Kriff, he hopes she didn’t inherit too much of her grandfather’s features._

As far as he can remember, Ben only met the Senator twice- a few weeks before his departure for the Jedi temple, and then a day after his return. Both times, a sensation of extreme unease had seized him, highly contrasted by the man’s generous kindness towards him. Both times, he was gifted something. A book, first, then Sunberry wine. The memory only makes the reason for today’s meeting a little more embarrassing.

His mother calls for him, dragging him out of his thoughts once again. Careful not to trip over his own feet, Ben takes a deep breath and follows her to the balcony, blinking at the sudden amount of sunlight invading his vision.

“Ben,” the honeyed voice murmurs as he approaches. “Not so young anymore, are you?”

The comment comes with a friendly pat on the shoulder and a satisfied smile Ben struggles to return, and it takes him a split second to remember why he always avoided being around the Senator in his young years.

He can still feel remnants of the man’s Force signature and its singularity: something sickeningly warm to the point where it’s invasive. It isn’t as strong as it used to be, thank the Maker, but the fact that Ben can feel it- there’s no doubt it’s as intoxicating as he thinks it is. The remnants of Vader’s influence on him, according to the rumors, like an old, indelible stain. Maroon, wine and winter nights, all wrapped up in some silky shawl similar to the one he’s wearing right now like a hood.

Rumors have it his face got damaged by Vader himself, and Ben can’t help the tinge of shame building in his throat at the thought. “Good to see you again, Senator.”

The lie leaves him with ease; another perk that came with his restricted use of the Force. As long as he keeps a good distance, others do too- though given the brief look his mother gives him, she doesn’t need any force sensitivity to know how he feels.

“A grown man,” Senator Palpatine continues, as if uninterrupted. His voice is warm, _too warm_ , his eyes appreciative as he examines Ben with a friendly hand on his shoulder. The gesture makes him feel like a product, a merchandise being examined- and maybe it’s the nervousness or the memories this meeting brings back, but his head is suddenly dizzy. The hint of a whisper grazes him- the kind he hasn’t heard in years, even in dreams. 

A movement catches his attention at the other side of the balcony, shutting everything else around and grounding him in this moment. It’s a sweet drag, like being taken by the hand and guided away from a crowd to a silent room.

He’d meticulously avoided searching for her, and immediately regrets when his eyes find her- or rather, her back. She’s turned away from them, gazing at the mountains chain beyond the lake. A long dress made of some smooth fabric hugs her frame with ease, giving him a brief glimpse of her bare back as she turns to them. Its cream color is the perfect contrast against the sun-kissed skin of her arms, or at least what he can grasp of it through her long, gossamer sleeves. A long drape similar to his mother’s holds the layers together around her waist, achieving to emphasize the tightness of her figure.

“Ah, yes- Rey? Come here, darling.”

She doesn’t approach immediately; but when she does, Ben finds himself only half-reluctant at this marriage possibility. A soft smile curls her lips, polite and controlled- and maybe it’s his own nervousness, but Ben can sense how tense she is behind this smile plastered on her lips.

Her thin, red-painted lips.

“My granddaughter, Rey. Rey, this is-”

“Ben. Call me Ben.”

He knows this smile well too much, he’s learned to master it too: not too much, but just enough to give a good impression. Hers is perfect; like she’s done it at least as much as he has. Her eyes meet his without warning, and Ben feels his heart drop to his knees.

There’s something about her, _in her_ , that he recognizes immediately but can’t quite place yet. It’s sweet and spiky, demanding yet distant, and more intense than it should. He doesn’t feel people anymore, doesn’t allow himself to, and yet has for the second time in less than an hour. Cutting himself from the force is getting harder every day, but this- this is something else. She’s nothing like the heady presence of her grandfather- the little glimpses of her he can grasp are bright, light and comforting. It takes him another second to realize _how_ _bright_ , exactly, and another to notice the barest of a frown crowning her brow.

“Shall we head to the reception room?” his mother’s voice echoes next to them, distant.

Her frown fades and she nods, her face an unreadable mask when she glances at Ben again.

\- - -

The reception is, as Ben had anticipated, extremely boring. It’s a succession of courtesies and manners, with far too many people for what was supposed to be an uneventful visit. He can see the efforts his mother has put in it, both for him and his guests: only a few of her trusted friends are here, outnumbered by more of her loyal political acquaintances. It’s far from the usual crowd that can be seen around her birthday.

“I must say I never heard about the Senator’s family, let alone his granddaughter.”

The words leave him with surprising ease, given the knot tightened around his stomach. They’ve been alone for a few minutes now, standing in a deafening silence while both his mother and the Senator twirl around the room, doing whatever it is such important politicians do during that kind of gathering. He’s been searching for the right words for longer than he’d like to admit, only to say _this_.

The girl- _Rey_ , he reminds himself- looks up from her glass. She seems to think about it for a moment, then nods.

“And I thought you were one of your uncle’s students,” she murmurs defiantly. “Looks like we were both fooled.”

On any other day, the mention of Luke would’ve annoyed him- but he’s too fixated on her voice and the way her eyes narrow when she speaks. The red on her lips has faded a little, coloring the edge of her glass with every sip she takes. By some mysterious miracle, it hasn’t smeared her skin.

“I chose to leave that path,” Ben replies, eyes fixed on the little red smudges. It’s not a lie, nor the actual truth, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“But you haven’t closed yourself off from the force,” she adds pensively. “Not completely.”

The warmth of her force signature grazes him again, like a confirmation of what he suspected earlier. She is force-sensitive, maybe even more than she knows- she has to be, given how much he can sense her through the inner shield he built. It takes him a little more than usual to ignore the energy begging to leave him and tighten the walls around him.

“I… my grandmother was from Naboo,” he says, eager to change the conversation.

The sudden turn seems to unsettle her for a moment then she takes another sip, looking at him through a frown. “Wouldn’t she be from here?”

A brief silence follows her question, heavy with realization and embarrassment. It’s no secret that the prodigious Skywalker twins are direct descendants from Vader- not after the show his mother put up once the secret was out. It is, however, a topic people tend to avoid at all costs, his family more than everyone else. There’s no way her grandfather hasn’t educated her about the mess that his family is, especially when he was involved in said mess. Especially when he’s _marrying her_ to this mess.

“Ah, yes- my non-biological grandmother was from here. She’s in the East Wing, next to my grandfather.” Her frown increases at his words, pushing him to add, “their portraits. Their portraits are there.”

It’s a little embarrassing, how casually he said that. Sad, too, when he remembers how stupidly attached to the portraits he was as a child. Still is, really.

“Are we supposed to talk about our families?”

His eyes land back on her. Despite his curiosity, Ben represses himself from opening just a little to take a glimpse at the state of her force signature. The tone in her voice is enough for him to sense her unease, which he can’t help but share. This topic is… not exactly his favorite either.

“I wouldn’t know,” he offers with a shrug. “This is my first time at courtship.”

“And my first time being courted,” she replies with a nervous chuckle.

Hiding his surprise appears to be harder than he thought: he can already feel his expression betraying him, his eyes widening as he considers her again with a frown. “Really?” he hears himself murmuring. His tone isn’t as controlled as he’d liked, but the look she gives him is just as unsettling as her comment.

“Yes. Is it… a bad thing?”

For the first time since they started talking, her eyes aren't avoiding his; she holds his gaze instead, allowing him to get a good glimpse at her eyes. They’re warm and curious, only made even more piercing by the black line traced along her lashes. The temptation to lose himself in them is high.

“No. No, it’s just- surprising, is all. You… look like you would’ve been courted more than… never.”

Another chuckle leaves her as she finishes her glass, her eyes avoiding his. “I… thank you.”

A sudden warmth washes over Ben and stops at his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I lack… whatever it is that wouldn’t make this so awkward.”

A long sigh leaves him and he bites his lips, his words playing again and again in his head. He’s starting to doubt his ability to do whatever it is he’s doing when Rey lets out a laugh- a tiny, endearing laugh that makes her look younger than he suspects she is.

“Would you want to meet again?” he asks as he sees his mother approaching them. “Another time? Without the whole…” his eyes drift to the reception and many strangers around them. She seems to think for a moment, considering him with that curious look of hers with her head tilted to the side.

“I think you’re the one who decides if we pursue this… thing. If I’m of your liking, that is.”

There’s a touch of sarcasm in her voice, concealed behind her polite smiles and careful words. It’s barely there, just loud enough for Ben to sense that maybe, maybe she doesn’t like this idea much more than he does. It’s a poor excuse of a consolation, but gives them at least one thing in common. Weirdly enough, it seems to be the first time he gets a glimpse of the real her; and, even weirder, makes him want to see more.

“I’d rather it be your decision.”

She seems surprised by the offer and keeps studying him for a moment, tilting her head again like she’s trying to decide whether or not he’s worth the embarrassment. “We’re staying a few days, so… I guess you could be of good company.”

Her eyes squint again; and Ben, feeling a little lighter, finally takes the first sip of his glass.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your nice comments and kudos, and for even just reading this story ♥  
> I tag with everything I can think about but if you ever think I should add something else, please tell me!

The night is still dark when Ben wakes up, pearls of sweat dripping down his heaving chest. His fists clench around the sheets he’s wrapped in, nails digging into his palms until the pain is sharp enough for him to be sure he’s well awake.

The nightmares never really left him, but this… this was something else. The voice hadn’t been that loud in years, and Ben feels a shiver run down his spine at the clarity of its icy words. It hasn’t been that clear since _that night_ , and the realization only adds goosebumps on his trembling skin.

 _Just a nightmare_ , he reminds himself as his feet touch the cold floor of his room.

Shreds of his nightmare follow him as he opens the door to the balcony and steps outside. It’s an old habit he picked from his mother, to "chase bad thoughts away". It doesn’t really work, hasn’t since he was five, but the fresh air of Alderaanian nights never fails to calm his heartbeats. It’s cold, sweet against his skin; a welcome sensation after the images his brain just sent him. As old as the memories are, they always feel very clear. Too clear.

 _Waking up with an odd feeling. Noticing the way his friends looked at him all day. Being summoned by Luke, and given the letter he wishes he’d never opened._ He can still remember the thin lettering of his mother, and the bad feeling he had at the sight of it. Nobody hand writes letters anymore, but his mother makes exceptions for important matters. And what an important matter it had been, indeed, to learn about his biological grandfather’s identity.

Being Darth Vader’s grandson had come with an insane amount of fears from others, but mostly himself. Even though he’d always felt alone growing up, Ben had felt the few friends he’d made go away, one by one. Of course, he’d been used to loneliness- but nothing had prepared him for the questions that came with this revelation.

And that’s when the voice had started talking.

He’d been scared, at first- everyone would be scared. He’d heard it before in nonsensical nightmares; but as the days passed and the loneliness grew, the voice became louder, until he couldn’t ignore it any longer. It became a friend of sorts; a constant presence filling the gaps and whispering the answers he desperately needed. Answers Luke didn’t approve.

A breeze caresses his cheek as he leans against the barrier, taking in the landscape before him. He remembers leaving in the middle of the night after a long conversation and a heavy heart. He remembers coming home and not talking to his mother for days, until he’d realized his father had left for one of his trips. He remembers her face hitting his sternum when he’d taken her in his arms, giving her the silent apology and reconciliation he needed more than everything. His mother may not have chased him like his uncle did, but she still sensed the doubts and fears in him- he knew it. He’d seen the concern in her eyes the first time the voice had reached him after his return, and hadn’t missed how careful she’d been around him. If he’d had doubts before, this had only accentuated them- and before she could do or say anything, Ben had cut himself off from the force.

It’s been years since the voice last whispered its poisonous promises, but Ben never forgot the unspeakable horrors it encouraged him to do. He remembers the visions that used to graze his mind, the violence of them and how it usually ended with death- someone’s, or his. But most of all, he remembers the times these visions were tempting, and the fear that came with the realization.

He stays here for a few more minutes, focusing on the shields he built around his mind. The fresh air helps ease his trembling, and the memories vanish slowly, one by one, until he’s back to the familiar silence. There’s a moment, briefly, where he thinks he can hear the hint of a word being whispered in his ear, but it goes as fast as it came.

 _Just a nightmare_ , he reminds himself as he walks back to his room. The sheets are cold when he finds his bed again, the room empty and suddenly too big for him.

His eyes fall on the wardrobe where he hid his lightsaber- a rather poor hideout for such a weapon, but the first he had thought of then. As noble as a lightsaber is, he knows how dangerous it can be, and with the dormant darkness in him… he’d rather stay away from any temptation.

He fights against sleep for longer than he’d like, afraid of the things he might see. When he finally surrenders, his mind drifts to Rey, and the familiar softness surrounding her. He falls asleep thinking about her smile, and the promise of a new moment together.

\- - -

The morning almost nears its end when Ben finally finds Rey walking through the gardens with his mother. She’s wearing a sky-blue dress and that contained, polite smile as they progress through the path of gingerbells. The softness of her force signature grazes him in no time, warm and luminous, like a guiding light in the night. Scraps of the nightmare he still carried vanish immediately.

His mother is the first to notice him, and Ben feels his stomach tighten as she takes the young woman’s arm and whispers something. He hates whispers, especially his mother’s; but the feeling evaporates as soon as his eyes find Rey’s. There’s a curiosity in the way she looks at him that mingles with something he can’t quite place; not quite fear, but not comfort either. She’s careful, measured, and Ben feels his own curiosity grow as he takes the step separating them.

“Good morning.”

His voice comes out a little lower than intended, but she doesn’t seem to notice. His mother, on the other hand, looks more than amused. “I’ll give you two some privacy,” she offers with a smile- and before Ben can protest, she’s walking away, leaving him with a ridiculous blush he can feel spreading on his face.

Rey is still smiling when he turns back to her. He wonders how much training she’s had to keep this mask on for so long. She looks patient, slightly amused too, and Ben only now takes the time to take in her whole appearance. Her dress isn’t as extravagant as the one she wore the day before, but still accentuates each of her features without fail: tight, long sleeves covering her arms down to her wrists, embroidered flowers falling down her shoulders and cleavage to frame what little of her skin is visible. Ben feels his blush increase at the vision and quickly moves his eyes up to hers. “I like your dress.”

Of course. This had to be the first thing he could think of.

“I like yours, too.”

She says it with such ease, it takes Ben a second to remember the cape draped over his shoulders, and another to notice the smirk hiding in the corner of her lips. “Was that a joke?”

“Only if it was funny.”

His mouth opens, closes, and mirrors hers as she breaks into a soft chuckle. Her lips aren’t painted in any color, today. Her eyes seem to have been outlined with a thin black line, though, and Ben realizes he hadn’t noticed their color until now. It’s something like the woods in autumn, flashes of greens and brown dancing together in a way that makes it impossible to distinguish one from the other. He decides he likes it.

“I don’t know,” he admits sheepishly. “I like your laugh, though.”

“I’m just trying to make this less embarrassing for both of us”

There’s a nervousness in her voice that draws a frown on Ben’s face. It’s the first time she’s shown even an ounce of uncertainty since her arrival, and Ben can’t help wondering if he’s the source of her sudden unease. Of course he is- she was all smiles and calmness before his mother left, and given the way he started their last and only conversation yesterday, she must be rather reluctant to the idea of having another one.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, because it’s the only thing he can think of. Sorry he’s making it embarrassing, sorry that she feels like she has to do something about it- but more than anything, sorry that out of all people in the galaxy, she may have to marry him.

“No, I mean- not you. You’re…” A nervous laugh leaves her, again. “You’re nice. I can tell you’re kind, I just… don’t really talk with people.”

A sense of surprise washes over Ben at her words. This is… nice, though he’s not sure he deserves the compliment. Still, he makes sure to think twice before his next words cross his lips. “Me neither,” he admits with a shrug. “This is already very promising.” She chuckles again; a light chuckle that still feels a little contained, but a little more genuine than the ones before. This time, Ben can’t contain his smile or the question that crosses his lips faster than it forms in his mind. “Can I show you around?”

The nod she gives him is a bit uncertain but she follows him, her long flowing skirt crawling after her. Ben swears he hears her curse as they climb the stairs leading to the main door, and catches her pulling at her dress, an unexpected hint of impatience in her movement. She catches up with him within seconds, her eternal smile back on her face.

It takes Ben a moment to realize his legs have instinctively guided them to the long corridor he crossed just a day ago with his mother before they met. As much as he doesn’t like this palace, there’s at least one part of it that always made him feel at home. He hasn’t been there for months, years maybe- never more than the brief seconds he needs to travel through the corridors. Still, it feels like the best place to impress a guest.

“It’s beautiful,” Rey says as they pass a particularly eccentric painting that covers half a wall.

Ben can’t help scoffing at it, and shakes his head. “I always hated it.”

He spares her the details about how his seven-years-old self got traumatized by the graphic depiction of Alderaan’s first sentient inhabitants and their long mandibles, and how many nights were spent in his parents’ room until the fear passed. He later learned that no one had ever actually seen Killiks other than in paintings; yet even now, he instinctively keeps his distance as they walk past the painting.

“The palace was built centuries ago,” he recites matter-of-factually. “Every monarch added something to it.” His steps slow down as they reach the place he wants to show her. “This gallery was the first addition.”

Rey’s footsteps echo around them a few more seconds after she stops. When he turns back to her, Ben finds that she’s not smiling anymore: her eyes are wide open, taking in each of the portraits hanging on the walls with great fascination. He notices a movement in her arm, like she wants to touch them. It’s short-lived and discreet, so much that he wonders if he imagined it.

“They’re your family.” It’s not a question, so Ben doesn’t answer. “You’re not there,” she adds curiously.

The frown crowning her face is the first instance of doubt Ben sees in her features, and he finds he doesn’t hate it at all. “No,” he confirms.

“Why?”

_Because he doesn’t deserve it._

“It’s a privilege,” he says instead. “Sovereigns have to earn their place among the others.”

She seems satisfied by his answer-for a moment, at least. Her eyes jump from one portrait to the other, squinting, like she’s trying to make sense of what he said. When she finally looks back at him, Ben notices a few locks of hair have escaped from the three buns she already wore the day before. “Who was she?”

Her fingers point at the portrait on her right, and Ben feels his lips curl into a small smile. “Mazicia Organa.”

“What did she do? To earn her place here?”

Ben looks at her for a moment, trying to find that familiar politeness in her features, but there’s none. All he sees instead is curiosity; pure, intense curiosity and a desire to learn that warms his heart in a ridiculous way. He remembers asking the very same question decades ago when this place used to make him just as curious, if not more. He would find comfort and company there, belonging. Now… the looks feel heavier than before, and his eyes can’t help searching for the two portraits that should be here.

“She was an important figure of the Clone Wars. We owe her the Star of Alderaan and the gardens you were in earlier.”

The answer comes naturally, instinctively. He knows these portraits’ lives by heart, knows each of their values and faults. In a way, showing this gallery to Rey feels like showing her the legacy he’s carried with him so far. But as much as he knows about them, Ben can’t help feeling like he doesn’t really know this family he’s supposed to be a part of. He knows about their political life, but not about their secrets. He doesn’t know their voices, nor the books they read too many times or the embarrassing anecdotes about their childhood- a childhood they probably spent in this very same palace. This place makes this family seem large and present- and in a way, that’s how it used to make Ben feel. Coming here was just a way to spend time with a family he never knew, but now…

Now, it just reminds him of how lonely he is, and of the mistakes of his actual bloodline.

The little information he gave Rey seems to please her, or at least enough to give him a glimpse of a smile that seems a little more natural every time. “So she was your…?”

“Great-grandmother.”

“So…” She walks to the next portrait, the sound of her steps echoing around them. “This would be your grandmother.”

“Yes.”

“ _Adoptive_ grandmother.”

“Right.”

“Where is the other one? The one from Naboo?”

It’s a good question- a question Ben has thought about many times. It’s another reason why this place isn’t as comforting as it used to be: the absence of a portrait that should be here, and the meaning it would carry with it. For a brief moment, finding out about his actual bloodline had been a relief- a moment in which he’d thought this would bring answers to this constant feeling of inadequacy. He’d always been a curious child, and this habit hadn’t left him growing up. Sadly, the things he learned about his biological grandfather only increased the doubts he already had about himself except this time, it all made sense. The anger, the nightmares, the power- this was all the legacy of the man who caused too many deaths and suffering. A legacy he can sometimes feel more than he’d like.

He wishes he’d inherited his grandmother’s traits.

“You ask many questions,” he observes quietly.

“You give interesting answers.”

Ben doesn’t reply and beckons her to follow him instead. They fall back into a serene silence as he shows her the rest of the palace, only breaking the quiet here and there to mumble something about the room they just passed, answer the few questions Rey has and… he has to admit that she asks good questions. He ends up anticipating them, giving the smallest details before a sound leaves her mouth and she nods every time, listening carefully, like she’s consciously memorizing the place. It’s only after they reach the balcony where they met the day before that Ben realizes maybe she _is_ trying to memorize- if everything goes according to his mother’s plan, she might be living here one day.

They lean against the balustrade in unison, their eyes locked on the landscape before them, when Rey suddenly asks the first question Ben wasn’t expecting.

“Can I ask what exactly is there for you?”

The bluntness of her words is surprising, if not unsettling. It contrasts with the softness of her features as she looks at him expectantly, awaiting an answer Ben struggles to give; but he remembers her defiance during their first conversation. She _is_ blunt, and expecting an answer- so Ben chooses to buy himself some time, mumbling a pitiful “for me?”

“In this arrangement.”

Ah, yes. The _arrangement_. Truth be told, Ben doesn’t even know himself; all there is for him is a duty he never asked for and a life with her, which so far could be as heavenly as it could be terrible. Kriff, he hopes it’s not terrible.

“It makes me king,” he answers in the most assured tone he can find in himself.

“And this is what you want?”

Finding a vague answer is a little more difficult, this time. He doesn’t really want to think about what he wants. Every time he thought he knew, Ben always failed at it, like he did with his Jedi training. Wanting things doesn’t work for him, and desire only makes him feel closer to the darkness that swallowed his grandfather- to the darkness that could, one day, swallow him, too. There are things he simply can’t allow himself. When his eyes linger on Rey, though, he’s met with patience and this soothing feeling, this warmth radiating from her and calling him from afar. If his mother’s suspicions about the Senator are right, she might be the enemy. She would warn him about her question, say this could be the Senator trying to learn more about her plan- but Rey seems nothing like her grandfather.

Ben decides to trust her.

“Even if I wanted this, Alderaan traditions demand a few things of a future monarch.”

“So you _do_ want it?”

Her curiosity is insatiable, but he’s not complaining. Smiling, Ben takes a glimpse at her attentive expression and turns back to the vast landscape facing them. “There’s something called the three challenges to the crown.” He marks a pause, waiting for her to point out his deflection. She doesn’t, so he continues. “The challenge of the Heart, the challenge of the Mind, and the challenge of the Body. Once all accomplished, the heir is considered ready to access the throne.”

Rey remains silent, assimilating this new information, and urges him to continue with a nod.

“The challenge of the Heart is usually accomplished with charity work, while the challenge of the Mind requires some intellectual investment, usually political. The challenge of the Body, on the other hand, is a little more specific.”

Once again, Rey remains silent, but Ben notices a slight change in her eyes when she turns to him, awaiting the rest of the story. She’s a good listener. He hopes he’s not too bad of a storyteller. Slowly, careful not to make any sudden movement, he raises a hand to point at the mountain facing them.

“The mountain you were looking at yesterday is called Appenza Peak. Alderaan heirs traditionally climb it by themselves to complete the challenge.”

Of the three challenges, this is probably the one Ben anticipates the least. After Jedi training, climbing a peak feels much easier than proving his intelligence or generosity; and from what his mother told him, the view is absolutely breathtaking. He’s heard about her own challenge, how she was allowed to bring her mother with her, and opens his mouth to add this detail when he notices a frown on Rey’s features. It’s not an angry one- more like an inquisitive, amused frown, and Ben suddenly wonders if he wasn’t supposed to remember the interest she seemed to have in the landscape a day ago. Does it make him sound like a creep? Kriff, he hopes he didn’t sound like a creep. He’s searching for the best way to apologize when she speaks again. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Very good listener, indeed. Maybe _too_ good.

“Well, what is there for _you_?”

“You can’t answer a question with another question.”

She’s still frowning, but Ben is quick to catch the hint of amusement behind her accusatory tone. He can already hear his mother telling him to _be careful with his words_. “How about this: I tell you next time, and you tell me after?”

“Next time?” She makes it sounds like a good idea when Ben was only trying to buy himself more time- he has no idea how she does it, really.

“Next time,” he confirms, slightly more assured. “You said you were staying a few days.”

“I did,” she agrees with that little tilt of her head. “You’re very attentive, your highness.”

“Call me Ben. Please.”

For a split second, Ben swears there’s the hint of a smirk on her lips, and a smidge of teasing in her voice. He probably made it up, though, because there’s no reason for her to be this friendly. She’s just ‘making it less embarrassing’ for both of them, like she said.

Still, his heart decides to miss a beat when he notices that her smile is still there, hiding behind her naked lips.

“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, Ben.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to update yesterday and I completely forgot, sorry!

Ben joins her the following day, just as promised; same time, same place. He does it again the day after, and the one after until it becomes a habit; and by the end of the week, the nervousness is barely there when he joins Rey on the balcony for their daily walk. With every meeting, the conversations go a little easier, and Ben gets a better look at the real Rey. A laugh, a frown- it’s never much, just a few glimpses of what she seems to be hiding behind these velvet smiles and contained nods, but he likes it.

They could very well spend their entire days together, but Ben doesn’t want to burden her too much with his company, so he indulges her with a walk every afternoon before he excuses himself for the rest of the day. Her grandfather never seems to be too far away, greeting them with a warmth that only increases Ben’s desire to hide in his room.

Each walk gets a little longer, though; and every day, their conversation becomes a bit more intimate. It starts when she renews her question from that first walk, and Ben is surprised by how easily the answer comes to him.

He tells her about his childhood dream of being a pilot like his father, and the realization years later that his father wasn’t exactly _just_ a pilot- this part makes her laugh, and her laugh makes him smile. She tells him about the beauty of Naboo and her desire to see more planets, preferably all different from each other, and answers his question in return with a notion of duty toward her family. Ben notices she doesn’t speak about her childhood, but he doesn’t push his luck: given her reaction when he asked the day they met, she doesn’t seem inclined to talk about her family, and Ben can only understand.

Truth be told, he’d been afraid this arrangement would get him stuck with someone as dull as he was, but Rey… Rey is far from that. She’s like a book he hasn’t quite figured out how to open and desperately wants to read. A book with an alluring cover, delicate and robust at the same time. She’s radiant, maybe too much- so much that Ben finds himself stealing glances at her when she's not looking just to make sure she’s real. And every time he does, the smile on her face seems to fade a little. It makes him even more eager to peer at the pages.

But if her presence makes his days a little brighter, his nights just keep getting worse.

He wakes up every single morning with a start, the memories of his nightmares a little clearer every day. What used to be a series of images from the past has been replaced by visions of every dark thought that ever crossed his mind. It started with vague ideas, feelings like anger and shame seizing him violently, but what haunts him now is far more detailed, and _that voice_ , again- it’s louder than ever, encouraging him to strike.

Tonight is no exception.

Ben is still sweating minutes after he woke up, his chest heaving under the shuddered breaths he’s desperately trying to control.

There’s no way to tell for sure, but this voice- he’s sure the voice he heard tonight was his grandfather’s, beckoning him to come closer. He remembers the voice guiding him through a dark cave, fading as he reached a wall in which he saw his own reflection staring back at him with _that look_ in his eyes.

Ben doesn’t even realize he left his bed until the fresh air grazes his skin, and a dry chuckle leaves him. There’s something sad about how his body learned this schedule, something ironic in the way the nightmares are still in control even after he left them. No, it’s not ironic, it’s _infuriating_ . His days are controlled by duty, his nights haunted by a past he can’t rewrite. He needs something _he_ gets to control. He needs air, more air, more space- he needs to get out of this room.

It’s been forever since Ben last walked through the palace at night, but the satisfaction is just the same. No noise, nothing to attend to, nobody to indulge. He can see why his father avoids the palace as much as he can: this is no life for a soul like his. He’s not sure it’s one for him either, but it’s probably the safest.

His mind drifts to Rey as he passes the gallery they visited a week ago. She doesn’t seem enthusiastic about this life either, and Ben wonders not for the first time about the Senator’s motivations. He’s heard his mother talk about how unions are the best way to maintain peace and spy on an enemy, but the more he thinks about it, the more doubtful he is about this ‘enemy’ status. If anything, Senator Palpatine is doing them a favor by restoring peace between their families.

Of course, he’s heard the suspicions; that he was the one to reveal his mother’s true lineage, that he’s a Sith waiting to strike again- but that would make him an insanely patient one. It _would_ explain why the voice returned, or the heady tune of the energy surrounding him, but it’s far too different from his granddaughter’s for it to be his. This is _his_ grandfather’s energy, the result of _his_ screwed up family. He’s just paying the price of a name he never chose to wear, undoing the wrongs others did before him, _all this because_ -

Ben takes a deep breath and shakes his head as he feels the anger building inside of him. He really needs to get better at closing his mind, because _this_ can’t happen. This is exactly what Luke warned him about: the dark side runs in their family and is strong in him. Too strong to let emotions overrun him.

His mind is closed again by the time he reaches the West wing’s balcony- so close that his heart misses a beat when he finds someone else standing by the balustrade. It misses another one when he realizes that someone is Rey, and that she looks just as surprised as he is.

“Oh- hi.” He wants to mumble an apology, turn away and find another balcony, but nothing leaves his mouth and his feet keep pulling him towards her, refusing to obey his brain. It's like his body can feel her calming aura, and refuses to walk away from it.

“Hi,” she returns with an amused tone. “Troubles sleeping?”

She moves sideways, like an invite for him to join her, and Ben accepts the offer without thinking. She looks tired, and much younger than she did today without the colors she usually adds to her face. Even her clothes are much simpler: a long, cream robe wrapped around her waist with just a thin belt keeping it tied together. His eyes drift to her arms, much less covered than usual and propped against the railing.

“Nightmares,” he sighs, mirroring her position. He’s almost expecting her to move away, but she doesn’t; he’s actually sure she moves a little closer, her elbow inches from his. “You too?”

Rey shakes her head, and Ben realizes it’s the first time he’s ever seen her out of her buns. Her hair grazes her face with the movement, falling in soft chestnut waves on her shoulders. “I just like the night. Easier to think.”

Maybe this is the way the moonlight hits her features or his own state, but Ben can’t help seeing a hint of concern in her eyes as she makes an effort to not look at him. She’s been hesitant before, careful before giving some answers, but he’s never seen so much doubt in her. In a way- a _selfish_ way- it’s comforting, because maybe she’s not as collected as she makes it. Still, Ben hopes whatever’s troubling her isn’t as concerning as it seems. “Nothing too serious?”

She just nods for a moment, like she’s trying to evaluate it.

“I don’t know if this is what I want,” she murmurs. She leaves a brief silence behind her words, then turns to him. “Don’t take it personally- you’ve been nice, really. I just… I guess it never occurred to me that marriage would be so…”

“...organized?”

Her eyes flick up to his,, and her frown fades a little.

“It’s nothing like what we heard in fairy tales,” Ben agrees as he turns back to the dark landscape. “You’d think with the informality of my parents’ story, I would’ve escaped all these traditions.”

Rey hums in response, and Ben decides to push his luck. “What about yours?” She gives him an inquiring look, one that should warn him about what a bad idea it is to continue, but he does anyway. “Your parents. You never mention them.”

“Ah, _that_.” She’s not on the defensive like he expected, but something in her seems to drift away as she speaks. “I don’t know much about them- they left for a diplomatic mission not long after I was born.”

She doesn’t add anything, leaving Ben a little dumbfounded at the ease with which she said it. “They never came back?”

“Not yet, but they will. I know it.”

She sounds so calm, so convinced of it that Ben doesn’t try to argue. “You said this isn’t what you want,” he says instead. “Can I ask what you _do_ want?”

“That’s the worst part,” she murmurs. “I don’t think I even know.”

“How about the planets? You said you wanted to see more of them.”

A soft chuckle crosses her lips, dry and empty. “I’m not sure this is part of the arrangement our families agreed on.”

Now that is something Ben can’t argue with.

But he _wants_ to.

“Rey…” She turns at her name, her eyes so wide and glossy that it takes him a second to find the words he meant to say. “This may not be an... impromptu or passionate marriage, but I do want it to be good for you. If this happens, I wouldn’t want you to roam around this place. Kriff, _I_ don’t even want to stay stuck here, I’d rather-”

He stops himself right as he notices her look on him, somewhere between surprise and amusement.

“Are you even allowed to _curse, your highness?_ ”

Ben plays his own words in his head once, twice, until he realizes the word that left him and laughs in return. Well, _huffs_ would be more appropriate. It’s nowhere near the genuine sound that leaves Rey, but seems enough to put a smile back on her face; and because it does, Ben finds himself smiling, too. He’s not sure he’s seen this particular smile on her yet: this one lights up her eyes and digs tiny dimples on her cheeks while she scrunches her nose. It looks… clear. Sincere.

Ben decides it’s his favorite.

“What I mean is, I’m not expecting you to pretend you love me. We can just… look after each other and happen to share a name.”

Her mouth closes in a tight line, but her smile doesn’t falter. She looks like she’s just thinking about what he just said, until Ben realizes she’s considering him with narrowed eyes.

“You’re much nicer than I expected, you know,” she says after a moment.

Her arm moves next to his, too fast for Ben to understand what she’s doing and steady himself for it. There’s a brief movement, a breath and then, the barest of touches against his skin. Her hand hovers above his like she’s waiting for his permission to touch him.

Ben feels his whole body tense as he moves his palm upward. He hates how his fingers tremble and how long it takes him to make such a simple movement, but Rey doesn’t withdraw. She waits patiently, her eyes fixed on his hand- and when he finally opens, she slips her fingers between his like it’s nothing, but what Ben feels is the _opposite_ of nothing. The warmth of her palm travels up his arm to his chest, spreads across his body until his skin feels like it’s on fire, but it’s the sweetest fire he could have wished for. And suddenly, the fire begins to sting and his vision blurs.

There’s light in his eyes, a light so bright it blinds him for a brief moment before his vision adjusts to the new landscape. There’s sand around him, an endless sea of sand hit by the most violent sun he’s ever seen. He’s tempted to close his eyes and go back to the balcony when a noise echoes behind him, pulling him to turn on his heels. There’s something there, _someone_ huddled on a ground. Her face is hidden between her knees, but Ben is pretty sure she’s crying. Her shoulders are shaking, accompanied by shuddering sniffings as a warm breeze messes up with her hair- and Ben feels his heart stop when he notices the three buns her tangled waves are tied in.

“Rey?”

The sand, the girl, the sun- it all disappears in a whirlwind of sobs, pulling Ben back to the balcony where a grown-up Rey looks at him with her eyes wide and full of terror. Her hand is still in his, clutching his fingers with a strength Ben didn’t suspect she had in her; and if his heart wasn’t clenching with sadness for the little girl he just saw, it would probably jump inside his chest, because her hand- it’s soft and strong in a way he can’t quite explain.

“Was that-”

“-your uncle?”

At second glance, Ben realizes there’s not an ounce of panic in her eyes. There’s surprise, sorrow maybe, but nothing like the panic he was expecting. She doesn’t look like she just saw herself cry in the middle of a deserted planet, and it takes a few more seconds for Ben to process her question.

“Skywalker?” she adds in a murmur.

She looks so _concerned_ as she says this name. Ben isn’t sure anyone ever said it like that. Even his own mother, after he told her what happened, chose to hide her disappointment. But Rey looks every bit disappointed, so maybe… “What did you see?”

Her chest heaves with a deep breath. “You,” she murmurs, “but younger. There was another man- your uncle, I think. You were talking about…voices.” Her hand tightens its grip on his. “And _him_.”

 _Him_. It’s the first time she ever mentions his grandfather. Most people do the first time they meet him, but Rey didn’t. She treated him like a whole being rather than someone’s grandson, and Ben wishes it could’ve gone a little longer. He wishes he would have looked away and not seen the way she’s looking at him right now, like he’s some sort of broken thing she pities.

“That was my uncle,” he confirms with a sour chuckle. “The day I learned about my grandfather.”

Rey doesn’t laugh in return. Her grip loosens around him, and she tilts her head to the side with a frown. “You said _you_ decided to leave his training.”

Letting go of her isn’t easy, but Ben does. His fingers untangle from hers slowly and move away. Rey’s hand stills for a moment, then grips the balustrade as Ben tries to find the best words to answer her sort-of-question.

“He said he wouldn’t train me anymore and I decided to leave,” he explains with a shrug. “Mutual agreement after he looked inside my mind.”

“Just because of ...that?” Her frown deepens when he shrugs again. “What did they tell you? The voices?”

“Do,” Ben corrects.”

There’s a silence following his words, and if she wasn’t afraid before, now is the perfect time for Rey to start looking at him with the look he knows too well. Talking about a past issue is one thing, but when the problem is a recurring one- she’d better run away, really.

“They’re still there?”

Her voice is surprisingly soft, contrasting with the way her eyes have widened. She looks surprised, sorry, but not afraid- so Ben gives her a brief nod.

“The nightmares,” she asks in a whisper, “that’s when you hear them?”

He wants to tell her yes, to omit the whole truth, but she’s been so… calm with all of this. Understanding.

“Partly,” he says without looking at her. “They come at night, now, but it used to be more frequent.”

“Before you closed yourself.”

It’s not a question; she knows it very well. Ben remembers their first conversation and the way he felt her try to peek at his mind. _Not completely_ , she’d observed, and she’d been right: his walls have lowered considerably since her arrival, and even more with each minute spent together. He’s wondered why she never joined Luke’s training, or how she got such a good handle of her power- because if that’s how much he can feel her through his shield… she must be powerful. Incredibly, extremely powerful. It's a wonder his grandfather's influence on hers turned into such a bright and powerful force.

“It’s been louder since you arrived.”

Something happens at his words- something that makes Rey step away and harden her gaze.

“Are you insinuating my grandfather is a spy of the dark side? Because I’ve heard this story more than you can-”

“No,” Ben interrupts hastily, “not at all. I’m just saying that’s when it happens.” She considers him for a second, like she’s trying to decide if he’s saying the truth. “You’re strong,” he continues, hoping to ease the tension. “I can feel you when I shouldn’t.”

He can sense her anger through whatever was just born between them. He can sense it from her confused glare, from the way she keeps a good distance between them- but more than anything, he _can sense it_. There shouldn’t be pride in him, but he’s fascinated by this new Rey- the real Rey, the one that’s comforting him one minute and getting mad at him the next. This one is wary, not agreeing or smiling to everything he says, and Ben finds that he likes her even more. He dreads her reaction, anticipates her next words in a way that’s too eager to be healthy.

“I can feel you,” she murmurs, breaking the long silence that’d settled between them. “You’re somewhere near, but… also far away.” He feels her mind graze his tentatively, then back away like she just touched fire. “And determined not to open, at that.”

“You don’t want me to open.”

There’s the hint of a smile coloring her face- amused, but brief. “What if I do?”

“There’s nothing good to see here, trust me.”

“I don’t expect to only see the good parts of you if we get married.”

Her anger has faded, making room for an interest Ben wasn’t ready for. She has to sense him, too- there’s no way she can’t sense the darkness threatening to seize him a little more every day. There’s no way she doesn’t know, already, what a mess he is inside.

“Alright,” he mutters, because really, what does he have to lose? “My grandfather murdered his own wife, became the most dangerous Sith this galaxy has ever seen and sometimes I think I could become just like him because- because I _hear_ him. I hear him telling me to do all these things, showing me how, and when I try to shut him down he always comes back one way or another.”

He’s not sure when Rey came closer, or when she put her hand above his. He’s not even sure why he’s so breathless, but her touch considerably lowers his heart rate as she runs her thumb across his knuckles.

“You say your grandfather did all these things,” she states calmly, “but what I see is you torturing yourself over someone else’s mistakes.”

Ben shakes his head, huffing something between a laugh and a groan. “That’s called legacy.”

“Nerfshit.”

Now _that_ is something he wasn’t expecting. “I’m sorry?”

“Nerfshit,” Rey repeats, and Ben finds it almost endearing. “You’re not your grandfather.”

“Some would disagree.”

“Your _uncle_ would disagree.”

There’s anger in her again, but this time is different. It’s just as strong, but rather than directed at him, this anger seems to be about him. It’s like a warm blanket trying to cover him, shield him from his own words, and Ben looks up to Rey when he realizes she’s not just mad at him: she’s mad at what she _saw_ in him.

And she’s not wrong: Ben valued Luke’s words for so long that it’s hard not to consider them true. He admired him his whole childhood, and that night, more than the weight of an entirely new legacy, the thing that burdened him the most was the way his uncle -his _mentor-_ looked at him. His eyes that were no longer filled with pride nor love. All they had was fear and shame- something Ben took with him when he left the temple, that night.

“I’m not letting you sleep alone.” Rey’s voice draws him out of his thoughts, soft again, and Ben holds his breath when her hand moves up and down his arm. “Not like this.”

The laugh that leaves him is embarrassing, but not as much as the blush seizing him. “I can’t ask you to share a bed with me after just a week of courtship.”

“It’s just a bed,” she observes, and she makes it sound like such evidence that Ben can’t find it in him to protest.

\- - -

Her hand doesn’t let go of his as they walk through the empty corridors, but their eyes don’t meet again until they reach Ben’s door. He looks at her, waiting for the moment she’ll change her mind and wish him a good night, but she just stares back at him patiently. When it becomes obvious that she’s not about to reconsider her words, Ben gives her a slight nod and pushes the door open with his free hand.

His room seems… big, and yet slightly less impressive than it was when he left it. Rey lets go of his hand as if she just heard his thoughts; but when Ben looks at her, she seems entirely too focused on something else. His eyes follow hers, and he feels his heart tighten when he realizes her interest is on his wardrobe. Can she even tell what’s inside? If she’s as powerful as he suspects she is, a lightsaber would be just enough to catch her attention, but he made sure to close himself enough to put most of its power to sleep.

“So, hm- I can leave you the covers, or…”

He doesn’t need to finish his question to drag Rey’s attention back to him. Her eyes, even though open, regain some light and turn back at him. “Why would you-” She looks at him, then at the bed, and back at him. “Ben, just get in bed.”

If she notices the way his face warms up, she doesn’t say anything. He’s almost tempted to open just a little, just enough to know how she’s feeling- but that would give her access to his own thoughts, which she definitely doesn’t need to hear. She doesn’t need to know his embarrassment, nor does she need to feel how nervous he is at the idea of spending the rest of the night so close to her.

She pulls at his sheets just as he sinks under them, careful to stick to his side of the bed. Ben feels his stomach tighten when she lays on her side, her hair spread over the spare pillow he never touches. “You should try to sleep.”

He nods, unable to contradict her. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”

“We look after each other, right?”

The light isn’t bright enough to be sure, but Ben swears there’s a flicker of a smile on her mouth as she says it, and just the sight of it makes him feel a little lighter. The mattress is cold under his skin, but his heart feels warmer than ever. It’s a shame she had to leave just when he finally got to see more of the real her. This marriage -if marriage there is- might not be one of love, but he has a feeling he could easily spend his days with Rey and never get bored.

“Rey... I saw something, too. A desert.”

A silence follows his words, long enough for him to wonder if she’s already fallen asleep- but she breaks it with a weak voice. “We all have our nightmares.”

“What about it?”

She leaves another silence, shorter, but Ben can see her frown through the faint moonlight. “I don’t know,” she says in a whisper. “It’s not exactly a nightmare, more like… a recurring dream. Feelings that tend to get too loud and just end up there.”

If he wasn’t already paralyzed by her presence, Ben would cross the few inches separating them to hold her- but because he can’t, he turns on his back instead, choosing to face the ceiling rather than her. “How do you know they’re just dreams?”

“Because I don’t want them to be real.”

She doesn’t hesitate, this time, and that is just enough for Ben to reach between them, opening his hand for her to take. Her words float above them for a bit before he feels her fingers graze his, hesitant. She stays like this for a moment, then buries her fingers between his tightly- so tightly Ben wonders how he’ll ever let go of her come the morning.

It’s only minutes later that a question comes to him, so evident he didn’t think about it. “Can I write to you? After you leave?”

“I’d love that.”

And he knows, from the sound of her voice and the energy she radiates- he knows she just smiled saying it.


	4. Chapter 4

Waking up without Rey feels just as empty as it has for the last twenty-nine days.

Nearly a month has passed since she left, making Ben’s days immensely less interesting. He didn’t plan on missing her so much, but walking around the palace without her by his side bombarding him with questions is… unpleasant. Unpleasant, lonely and sad.

Every morning comes with its own share of disappointment at the realization that he won’t see her, but the memory of their last night always brings a smile back on his face.

Her presence had been enough to chase the remnants of his nightmare, and for the first time in days, his sleep had been rather peaceful. She hadn’t moved much, only breathed loud enough for him to make sure every time he woke up that she hadn’t left- and every time he’d started doubting his eyes, her hand was there to lazily squeeze his in return.

Watching her leave in the morning -his bed, and then the palace- hadn’t been easy, but Ben couldn’t deny his relief now that Senator Palpatine wasn’t around anymore. Every glance, every smile of the man only deepened his unease, which his mother quickly confirmed to him once all visitors had left the palace. If he’d found Rey’s company pleasant, his mother had certainly hated every minute of her pretend-friendship with the Senator- but that’s something Ben doesn’t mention in his letters to Rey. 

Which have been more and more regular.

Taking his old calligraphy set out again brought a set of feelings he hadn’t acknowledged in a long time, but her replies are always worth it. It’s obvious she doesn’t enjoy calligraphy as much as he does, but she seems to make an effort just for him after the first letters, and Ben feels his heart warm a little with every tiny flaw in her lettering.

He was the first to write, as agreed. His first letter was a simple thank you, to which she replied with a handful of usual formalities and a very much expected offer to meet again. His answer was written less than an hour later and sent the next day, leaving him nervous and restless until she replied the day after. Her words got a little less formal every time, and Ben noticed a slight slackening in his own lettering- something his mother started to point out around his fourth letter.

“Another,” she murmurs from the doorstep.

His fingers tighten around the pen he’s holding, stopping right in the middle of a word. “Mother.”

He doesn’t need to look at her to know the curiosity and amusement filling her eyes. True to herself, she comes in without waiting for an invitation and sits on an armchair, radiating that particular energy that only belongs to her.

“Your father is here,” she says casually. Her eyes are on the paper spread over his desk, and the words scribbled across it- which he quickly covers with his hand.

Without Rey to speak to daily, writing down his thoughts has turned out to be an effective way of getting them out of his head- especially the nightmares. Last night’s was surprisingly tame, which may have something to do with his excitement about his upcoming trip. An excitement that just increased at his mother’s words.

“Where is he?”

She gives him that little smile, the one she keeps for these specific moments. “Downstairs. He’s waiting for you.”

The stairs and corridors separating him from the main hall have never seemed so long. His mother doesn’t follow, but Ben tries to still himself anyway- good posture, not-too-hurried steps, controlled breathing. His father hasn’t been here in weeks, which stopped being a problem long ago; but with the multiple visions of horror haunting his nights, his unexpected return is more than welcome.

A crooked smile welcomes him when he reaches the throne room, crowned by two familiar cheerful eyes staring at him. His father, true to himself, looks like he just fought a wookie -which he may have, given the motive of this last trip. Chewie’s desire to visit his family had been increasing these past months, and knowing his father, fighting one of his best friend’s family members doesn’t sound quite impossible. A chuckle leaves Ben when he notices the man’s vest covered in hairs, which only confirms his suspicions. It’s a game they used to play when he was younger: he’d try to guess what happened after each trip, and his father would give him yes or no answers until he eventually found out. But Ben doesn’t talk. Instead, he does something he hasn’t done in years. He takes a breath, crosses the distance between them and hugs his father.

“Oh- hey kid. Missed me that much?”

Ben doesn’t say anything; his arms just hold his father tighter, ignoring the ridiculous difference of height between them as Han finally wraps his arms around him in return. It’s not something they do much, these days. He was probably ten the last time his father held him like this, but Ben remembers it very clearly: the security of the man’s arms and the shield they created around him. They feel much smaller today, but just as strong as they used to be. For a split second, Ben is a little boy again, hiding in his father’s embrace, hoping the monsters won’t find him there. It took him years to realize the monsters were inside, and all he can hope for is that they never leave his mind, because letting them free would be…

He doesn’t even want to think about it.

“The nightmares, huh?”

Ben gives a brief nod, barely allowing his body to move. People always assume he would be closer to his mother given their shared force sensitivity, but his father’s simplicity has always been the most comforting. There aren’t any expectations between them, no shadows of grand bloodlines, no mystical connection between their minds. In truth, Ben always felt like his father understood him better _because_ no intervention of the force ever tainted their conversations. His father is all words and smiles, and observant enough to notice the slightest change in his eyes.

As clumsy as he is, he’s a sensitive man who can sense the panic in someone just as easily as his mother senses the weight of her husband’s mischiefs whenever he comes home. He never stopped trusting Ben, even in his darkest moments, and Ben is so tired of holding back- the words leave him with surprising ease, muffled by his own arm still wrapped around the man’s shoulders.

“I thought I’d left them out, I thought… I really tried, I swear. It’s just-“

A hand comes up to his hair, ruffling it affectionately as his father shushes him. “It’s just a nightmare, kid. Just a nightmare.”

A weak smile crosses Ben’s face as his father pulls away just enough to cup his face with both hands. That’s also something he used to do, years ago- touch his face, and look at him with a tenderness that soothed him back to sleep. There’s only concern, now; the tenderness is in his movements as he caresses his cheek with an affection Ben leans into.

“You’re right.” His breathing deepens as he focuses on the sense of safety filling him. “Can you say it again?”

“Just a nightmare, son,” his father murmurs.

There’s a tint of amusement in his voice, but Ben believes him. Slowly, his smile grows into a real one and he pulls away completely- a smile shared by his father when his eyes drift to the bag he’s carrying. “Going somewhere?” he asks with a laugh.

“Naboo. I’m visiting Rey.”

The laugh stops, replaced by a silent _‘oh’_. “Already?”

It’s been a concern for Ben, too: when is it appropriate to visit her? He’s been thinking about it for weeks, longing for Rey’s hand to touch his again. “You think it’s too soon? I asked her when would be an appropriate date and she wrote back-”

“Hold on, hold on. _Wrote_ back?”

His father’s eyes double in size in a way that’s almost comical, but Ben bites back a laugh and nods instead. “We've been corresponding.”

“I think it’s soon enough, then.” A disbelieving chuckle leaves Han, followed with a blink. “You’re going alone?”

“I didn’t think bringing my mother was an appropriate move for courtship.”

They both laugh at that- a genuine, loud laugh that fills the room and echoes around them for a few seconds after they stop, their lips still parted in wide smiles. For a brief moment, Ben reconsiders his plans to visit Rey; but as much as he misses these moments with his father and the simplicity of his presence, he knows the moment to say goodbye is never easy. Maybe it’s a good thing they’re only crossing paths. For once, he’s the one who’s leaving.

“So,” Han starts with a grin, “how is she?”

His smile shouldn’t match his father’s- yet, Ben can’t help it from spreading across his lips at the mention of Rey. “She’s… nice.” A flash of memory from their last night crawls back to the back of his mind, soft fingers tangling against cold sheets. “Very nice.”

He wants to add something: how she looks like the sun, how he wants to listen to her talk all day and how he misses her hand. He wants to see her smile, her eyes, wants to hear her laugh and the way she screams when she’s angry- and maybe that’s something his father would understand. He’s pretty sure most of his parents’ arguments start out of his father’s delight every time his mother loses her temper. His eyes are always tinted with that hint of wonder when it happens, and Ben can’t help wondering if one day, he’ll have the same look when he looks at Rey. Maybe he already does.

“Kid? _Ben?_ ”

It’s so unusual to hear his name in his father’s voice- Ben snaps out of his daydream in a blink. “Sorry.”

“She must be nice indeed,” Han laughs with a frown. “I was asking if you needed a ride.”

He knows what “a ride” means. It means getting the opportunity to fly the old freighter his father treats like his firstborn, then getting either lost or clashing with some of his old enemies that somehow found their way back to him. The last time it happened, the Falcon got damaged enough that his father spent a whole month home. What must’ve been the poor man’s worst month had then been one of Ben’s happiest childhood memories if only just for the many hide and seek sessions with his uncle Chewie. Speaking of-

“Where’s Chewie?”

His father’s frown turns into one of concern as he runs a hand down his face. “Family stuff on Kashyyk. I dropped him on the way back.”

“Oh.” It sounds a bit ridiculous of an answer for such news, but it’s all he can think of. Chewie barely speaks about his family, even less of his planet. Ben feels a tinge of guilt at the realization that he doesn’t know much about the life of the person he considers his uncle. “Nothing too serious?”

Han shrugs- something that means the answer is either unknown or none of his business. “So? About that ride?”

“I’m taking the Whisper.”

The sheer name brings a grimace to his father. He never liked that ship- or its name. But then again, anything that isn’t his old piece of junk isn’t worthy of his attention. “The Falcon would-”

“-be faster,” Ben mutters. “I know. I just… I want to go alone.”

His words are sharper than intended, but Han doesn’t seem annoyed and just nods, giving him a brief pat on the shoulder, which somehow soothes Ben’s mind. “Right. That makes sense.” His lips curl into the tiniest of grins. “Well, have fun kid. Make her smile.”

Something like a chuckle echoes against the walls as he leaves him with another shoulder pat and some other advice Ben doesn’t hear. All he can think about is that he hopes he sees her smile again. Being the reason behind that smile would be a great bonus.

He thinks about it as he crosses the gardens Rey liked so much on her visit, and again when he’s engulfed in an endless pool of luminous smears as the ship jumps into lightspeed with Naboo’s coordinates flashing across the panel.

\- - -

No crowd is here to welcome him when Ben lands on Naboo. His legs are still sore from the trip as he walks down the ramp, taking in the landscape surrounding him. He remembers visiting Theed once or twice as a child, always following his mother around the palace where she swung from one meeting to another. He never saw much of the city- only gardens and the hangar he just landed in: three tall walls made of stone and a wide opening on one of the most beautiful planets in the galaxy.

His steps echo against the ramp, quickly muffled by the rhythmic song of a waterfall somewhere near. He’s always loved the water, its sound and sensations- but right now, his eyes are on the woman waiting for him at the end of the ramp.

She’s just as beautiful as he remembered, maybe even more. Her hair is tied in those eternal three buns he’s seen in dreams more than once, with just a few rebel strands framing her face in soft waves. The dress she’s wearing is very different from the ones he remembers: the top is like a blue corset made of intricate golden embroideries of various plants and flowers, emphasizing her narrow waist and contrasting with the sun-kissed skin of her bust. It’s close to the skin, wrapped around her tightly. A similarly embroidered shawl covers her shoulders and arms down to her elbows, wide sleeves flowing around her waist. There’s a long skirt wrapped around her legs- pants, Ben realizes when she takes a few steps towards him. The fabric seems thin and soft, a light blue he’s seen his mother wear but has never appreciated that much.

It looks good on Rey. She makes it look good.

“How was your trip?”

Her voice is just as he remembered. Maybe even better.

“Long,” Ben admits in a breath.

The smile she gives him is so welcoming, he’s pretty sure his brain stopped functioning for a moment. Every word from her letters resonate within him, from the formalities to the most random thoughts she said she never shared with anyone else. She told him about the flowers of Alderaan and how she missed them, and Ben feels a hint of pride at the thought of the dozen of plants he brought with him, safely hidden in a compartment of his ship for now.

They walk to each other with bright smiles on their faces until they meet at the end of the ship’s ramp, then fall into a deep silence. Ben mentally curses himself when he realizes his arms are already half-open for an embrace that’s way too soon to be given. He spent the trip pondering about how this would happen, about _what_ would happen, because how are they supposed to do? She answers his question by giving him a smile- a warm smile that’s somehow brighter than the sun beating down above them and illuminates her face.

“You have freckles.”

It leaves him in a breath- the stupidest and most irrelevant observation he could’ve made. Thank the Maker, Rey doesn’t seem to mind.

“I do,” she replies with a nod.

The tiniest frown creases her brow with amusement, and Ben- he’s already lost in her eyes, thinking about how she might say those words again one day, in another context. Her lips curl into that tiny smile, the one that looks like a promise, and Ben is unable to stop the words from leaving him. “I never noticed.”

“I hide them for big gatherings.”

Ah, yes- the make-up trick. Another memory of his previous visit on Naboo is how confused he’d been at the former Queen’s make-up, and his mother’s embarrassment when he’d asked what kind of creature was ruling over this planet. Of course, he’d noticed the unnatural pigments on Rey’s mouth when they first met, but just like everything with her, it was subtle and perfect. Still, he likes her even more like this.

“Don’t. Don’t hide them- they’re beautiful.”

_You too_ is what he wants to add, but the words don’t fly past his lips. His eyes are fixed on the smile she throws his way over her shoulder as she beckons him to follow her out of the hangar.

She’s the same Rey he talked to on the balcony that night, but more… her. She gives him that half-smile again, that looks like a thank you and a laugh at the same time, and Ben tries very hard to ignore the sudden pounding of his heart inside his chest.

“You must be exhausted,” she says when he reaches her side.

“Not really.”

He’s too focused on not dropping his bag and trying to keep a composed pace to notice the way she frowns at him. Everything just feels immensely easier by her side, like she’s a small sun of her own, producing light and warmth he wants to bathe in. Everything also seems incredibly dangerous.

“Hm. But that’s what everyone usually says.”

His eyes finally meet hers again, and both his eyebrows shoot up. “Oh. In that case- very much, yes.”

They both chuckle at that and leave the hangar together, the sound of the waterfall following them until they’re far enough to hear birds instead.

The garden they have to cross is nowhere close to the one Ben is used to, on Alderaan. It’s vast, organized and sumptuous, obviously made to impress guests and emphasize the palace overlooking them. There’s a bush of blue flowers that looks oddly familiar until he remembers how his mother insisted that they grow these in their garden as well. He never understood why, until now. As silent as she is about it, he knows how conflicted his mother is about her legacy, too. She never once mentioned her biological father to him, save for the one letter that changed his life, but she told him about her mother. He’s not sure why she did, but the memory she shared with him was that of a kind woman, just and strong. He’s not quite sure it’s a memory, but the joy it brings his mother was always enough for him not to cause any debate.

The Palace is just as wide as Ben remembers. It’s a succession of corridors, reception rooms and more corridors that Rey seems to know quite well as she guides him silently.

“How come you live in the Royal Palace?”

It’s a bit rude now that he thinks about it, but Rey doesn’t seem to care; she just shrugs, and smiles again. “Senator’s privilege.”

Her hand finds his by the time they reach the apartment that was made ready for him, and squeezes it lightly. It’s a simple room, similar to the one she was offered at his own palace when she first visited weeks ago: a round room with a large bed, a desk and just enough furniture to feel at home. And on that desk-

“It was in the old library. I figured it’d fit better with the rest of your family.”

The eyes staring back at him are as familiar as unusual. They’re brown, just like his mother’s, but infinitely softer, though this could’ve been the painter’s choice. His hand leaves Rey’s as he takes in the portrait of the woman he never met.

His mother was indeed rarely open to talking about his biological grandmother, but Ben knows a few things about Queen Amidala’s life on Naboo. He knows about her reign, he knows she was loved by her people, and that she secretly married his grandfather in the gardens of this palace. He knows he would’ve loved her, and hopes she would’ve loved him, too.

“I… thank you, but I can’t…”

“Please, accept it before someone notices.”

Rey’s expression is enigmatic, save for the hint of a grin at the corner of her lips when Ben blinks at her. “Did you… steal it?”

“I made sure it was returned to the place where it belongs. Stealing would be for my own benefit- I did it for you.”

Her words echo in Ben’s mind as he walks to the painting, bouncing around joyfully. She did it for him. She did it _for him_.

The canvas is hard against his fingers, scratching his skin as he timidly touches it. “How did you even manage to sneak it out?”

“The less you know the better.”

He turns just in time to see her smirk, arms crossed against her chest with an incredibly proud expression on her face. There’s just enough light in the room for him to notice her freckles again. They look like tiny stars scattered over her nose and cheekbones. He can’t believe she hides them. If anything, he wants to look at them even more, maybe even touch them-

“Your grandfather isn’t here?”

The urge to sigh at his own stupidity is… very present. Ben knew he was bad at courtship, but this is a whole new level of bad. Everything was much easier that night, and through letters- there are no whispers now, no way to filter his thoughts before writing down an acceptable version of them. There’s just Rey, her amused eyes on him and the realization that he just mentioned her _grandfather_ not even an hour after he arrived.

“He’s away for a few days,” she replies with a brief shake of her head. “Galactic senate duties. I’m afraid you won’t see him.”

Relief washes over Ben at her answer. It’s the first time they’ll be able to spend time together without the ever-lurking presence of the man- well, second time if that last night counts. No fear of being heard, no strange feeling or increased voices- and being able to feel Rey and Rey alone is… magical. A part of him wonders if she chose this week to invite him for this specific reason, but the other part tells him not to overthink this detail.

“He would’ve organized something for you- I didn’t really think about it.” Ben can’t help the small smile blooming on his lips when he catches a hint of embarrassment in her voice. “I thought a picnic by the lake would be enough for tonight, but if you-”

“It’s perfect. It really is.”

Their eyes meet, and all trace of uncertainty leaves Rey. She gives him a nod, short but firm; and Ben swears he can feel the determination radiating from her tangled with an excitement that’s probably also his.

\- - -

Once they sit down in the grass, it’s like they were never apart: Rey is just the Rey he remembers from that night when she offered to keep him company, and Ben is… slowly getting back to the ease he’d found that day.

He lets her decide what he’s going to try next, and barely winces when she practically shoves a particularly bitter fruit in his mouth- he’s too busy smiling at her and getting drunk on the way she looks at him while she pretends she doesn’t feel their hands timidly getting closer somewhere in the grass between them.

Her fingers graze his just as the sun starts setting down before them. It’s a little easier without all this light on them- just as easy as it’d been in the darkness of Alderaan. So Ben takes a breath and turns his hand so hers can fit against his palm. No vision this time, thank the Maker- just a tingling sensation in his stomach and a blush tainting his face; but the smile that flashes across her face is worth it.

Ben’s own smile disappears just a moment later when she pulls away to brush a rebellious strand of hair from her eyes. Her hair is almost completely out of her usual three buns and _kriff,_ if he could stop the breeze to make sure her hand could come back to his and never leave again-

“Can I braid your hair?”

Of all the things he accidentally blurted out today, this might be the worst one; yet once again, Rey surprises him with her ever so unsettling smile and gives him a timid nod. And another one, firmer. “I’d love that.”

Ben’s heart is pounding as he settles behind her, legs crossed and knees almost touching her back. He tries not to dwell too much on the fact that he can smell the perfume she put on this morning- a surprising mix of what smells like blumfruit and vanilla with a hint of… forest, for lack of a better word, and something that’s just so _Rey_ he wonders if that’s her scent or the energy she radiates.

Undoing the remnants of her buns is incredibly satisfying. The ribbons she’d tied around her hair fall to the ground immediately as he starts weaving his fingers through her chestnut waves. She has soft hair- softer than his mother’s, though significantly shorter, barely going past her shoulder.

Her shoulders. His eyes catch sight of more freckles there, barely revealed as her shawl slowly glides down her arm.

“Where did you learn to do it?"

Her question is a relief, dragging Ben back to reality just enough to remember to move as he tries to remember what she asked. “Braids?” She nods, ruining the one he just started. “My mother was raised with the traditions of Alderaan.”

“Oh.” She nods again, but his fingers stay carefully placed this time. “You’re making the ones I saw her wear?”

Ben shakes his head with a chuckle. He certainly is _not_ , thank the Maker- his mother’s style takes way too much time to be done. Careful not to ruin his work, he keeps weaving his fingers through her hair and clears his throat, reveling in the feeling of her waves against his skin. “My mother wears high braids. Only a queen or former queen wears them.”

“But all the queens didn’t wear the same, in the portraits.”

Ben feels a smile form on his lips. Oh, how he missed her perceptive eyes and the questions that came with it.

“Braids are very personal,” he explains, eyes fixed on the four strands of hair he’s twisting together. “There’s a basis, different for each rank and status, but everyone adds their own signature to it. My grandmother liked to add flowers.”

“So what status are you giving me?”

“None,” he lies. “Just something that’ll look good.”

Her silence makes her sound disappointed. She _feels_ disappointed, but Ben remains silent as he meticulously separates her hair into four sections and starts a new braid opposite the first two. She doesn’t need to know- besides, the style he has in mind doesn’t even have any official significance. It’s just one of the many unspoken but famous side-traditions; a simple hairstyle people use to wear on their first tryst. Her hair is too short for a more intricate styling, anyway- not that Ben thought about another.

His fingers dance around the rebellious strands until the four braids are long enough to meet at the back of her head, where he ties them together in a loose bun similar to the ones she likes to wear.

“There,” he murmurs.

Her hand comes up and barely brushes him as she blindly reaches over her shoulder, grazing the braids with the tip of her fingers with a care that warms his heart. “It feels beautiful.”

“It is. I mean- you are.”

He can sense her; it’s dizzying how much he can sense her, and yet not quite enough. She’s so raw and pure, Ben can feel the shield he built around himself threatening to break any minute. It’s like a trap he yearns to fall into- which might happen soon if he doesn’t stop losing his focus for the sake of even just a hint of her energy.

Being together after so many weeks apart feels like pure completion, and yet Ben can’t help the twinge seizing him as he remembers the question he’s been wanting to ask her. It probably won’t please her, but he hasn’t been able to spend a day without thinking about it; and so he removes a hand from her hair, preparing for a conversation that won’t be as pleasant as the ones they had today. His other hand stays, though, not quite ready to let go of this soft part of her.

“In your last letter, you talked about your... dreams.”

Her hair slips through his fingers as she nods again. “They’ve been more frequent.”

“And intense?”

Ben can feel her tense in front of him, her shoulders stooped and voice sharp. “I never said that.”

“But they have. Right?”

His heart drops as she turns around to face him, her hair following her movement and leaving his hand for good. Her eyes are a mix of curiosity and distrust. He can sense it, can sense the light begging to be released, shining through the cracks she’s determined to keep closed. It’s frustrating how his entire soul feels drawn to hers; it’s like a magnet he can’t stop from trying to return to its second half.

“Rey, can I… would you let me… look?”

“Look?”

“Inside your mind.”

A heavy silence falls between them, and Ben senses something join Rey’s usual light force signature. Something darker. Something that feels a lot like the beginning of anger.

“What do you expect you’ll find?”

Her frown confirms Ben’s feeling just as much as the irritation in her voice. It should be a warning, really, but he’s just so _close_ \- to what, that is what he hopes to find out.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs sheepishly. “I just have a… feeling there might be things you don’t know.”

“A feeling, really?”

When he finally looks up, Ben feels a knot tighten his stomach as their eyes meet. She has nothing to do with the Rey who kept him company all night long a month ago. She’s tense, arms crossed and eyes locked into his with such disappointment that disappearing would really feel like a blessing right now.

“Well, I have a feeling you’re just like everyone else” she adds dryly. “I don’t know why I thought-”

The next words die on her lips as she starts getting up, and Ben, in his panic, reaches for her arm and grabs it. “Rey, please-”

“My grandfather is a good man,” she continues. “I know the rumors, I know the suspicions but he’s a good man-”

“But do you believe it?”

Ben realizes his mistake the moment he speaks. She looks surprised in a way she never has before, almost betrayed. He can sense her boiling inside, ready to unleash; but he does get a glimpse of the light hidden within her, too, though it’s tainted with a lot of anger now. A part of him likes it, that he’s awakened something in her, something other than this polite smile she insists on wearing. He wants to see the anger, the rage, everything- that is until she speaks again.

“Do it,” she murmurs. “Look inside my head.”

His grip on her arm loosens as she comes back on the ground, facing him with a defiant look. He thought his mother’s looks were the most powerful in the galaxy, but Rey’s- her glare makes him feel ashamed of his thoughts.

“Rey, you don’t… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Do it,” she repeats. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

A hint of uncertainty can be heard in her words, but Ben doesn’t point it out. He hopes he’ll be proven wrong, that is if he even can take a look inside. He knows the theory, but this is a particularly complicated practice that he absolutely can’t try without exposing his mind to hers in return.

His first instinct is to reach for Rey’s hand, but he thinks better of it and places his on his knees. Rey takes a breath as she closes her eyes in front of him, a wince betraying her anticipation. Kriff, he really hopes he’ll be proven wrong. He wants to hold her, reassure her, because he knows the invasion she’s about to experience. He remembers the fear that’d seized him: the fear of his uncle’s look on him, and the fear of what they would both discover. But more than anything, he remembers the brutality of the process- and so his hand covers hers, offering support she might refuse now but need later.

Her fingers graze his in a timid, uncertain touch as he closes his eyes in return, focused on mirroring her breathing with his. Progressively, Ben lowers his defense and lets the energy of this planet take a look at him. He can hear the waterfall’s melody in the hangar and feel the breeze pass through his body. He feels the calm surrounding them and the evening bustle of the city far away, like a rhythmic buzzing. He can feel Rey, too, close and radiating so much energy; she’s like a dying star he wants to run into no matter how much it’ll burn. Her hand squeezes his lightly, like permission to look closer; so he does, timidly, his mind tip-toeing towards the light of hers until he feels absolutely blinded by it.

The light falters, or maybe his eyes are getting used to it. Dunes appear before him, endless dunes under a familiar sun. A small figure stands out from the landscape, stumbling and dragging what looks like the carcass of an Imperial ship. It’s way too heavy for someone so small, but they manage to drag it to another carcass, bigger- an AT-AT, Ben realizes as he shields his eyes from the sun with a hand. He’s not surprised to see three small messy buns perched on the little girl’s head as she walks past him, oblivious to his presence. Her skin is burnt by the sun, red where her tunic doesn’t cover it. She looks up to the sky with hope, murmurs something Ben can’t quite hear and walks into the AT-AT with a determined face. Ben is tempted to follow her, but his surroundings change as soon as he starts walking, taking him to a makeshift house that seems to be the inside of the carcass.

The little girl is still here, engraving a single line on a wall. It could be the fiftieth, sixtieth- Ben can’t even measure how many lines she drew before this one. Too many, if they mean what he thinks they do. She looks up to the open roof and murmurs something that Ben can’t hear, the light already blinding him again as he readies himself for another one of those visions.

He’s back to her desert, but it’s not empty anymore: there’s a child crying, screaming in the arms of a man who seems utterly indifferent. Ben’s heart misses a beat when he recognizes the man’s face- wrinkled, damaged by some dark forces, and way too familiar. The senator frowns impatiently at the child, urging her to stay quiet. Her screams echo in Ben’s mind as he watches her being taken away, her familiar three buns bouncing as she tries to free herself from the man’s grasp. 

He’s pulled back to reality by Rey’s hand gripping his, squeezing him so tightly Ben wonders for a second if she broke it. His eyes find hers a moment later.

They stare at each other, panting, wide-eyed, and he knows from the look in her eyes she’s seen it, too.

“I didn’t remember,” she murmurs with horror.

Her hand loosens around his, quickly brought back by his. “Was that your dream?”

The energy surrounding them is brighter than ever, whistling and sending so much information. Ben can tell- no, he can _sense_ that she doesn’t know anymore. He can _sense_ her, her fears and doubts and this light he’s been desperate to reach. It’s so close now, without this shield, he can almost feel it burning the tips of his fingers as he gently stroke her palm, beckoning her to look at him.

“Was that a memory?”

Slowly, she gives him a nod and closes her eyes again, like she refuses to witness her own admission. “I think... I need some sleep,” she murmurs.

“Can I do something? Anything?”

Ben can feel his heart breaking at the sight of the tears slowly rolling down her cheeks, but fights the urge to hold her. Whatever energy she’s radiating right now, whatever signals she’s sending- he’s unable to read them. So he keeps holding her hand, desperate for an answer and a way to help.

“Stay,” she whispers after a moment. “Stay with me.”

\- - -

They don’t speak for hours, the only sound surrounding them a constant whistle and Rey’s sniffings as she cries silently. She asked him to hold her when they laid down on her bed, so this is what Ben does- he holds her as tight as he can, like a promise that he won’t let her down. She’s crying so silently, Ben wonders how much she’s used to it.

He’s not sure how long they stayed like this, her curled on her side and him holding her from behind with his arms wrapped around her waist. He can feel her breath from how close his chest is to her back, but his mind is entirely too focused on everything this day awakened between them.

This isn’t like anything Luke ever taught him. He’s always felt connected to other force users, but this is different. He can see the memories she’s finding in her, feel the emotions she’s experiencing as she processes the truth, like a common mind shared between them.

“They’re not coming back,” Rey murmurs, loud enough for Ben to hear.

He shakes his head, only agreeing with the conclusion she drew from the many memories that passed between them during the last hours. A faceless couple leaving her in the same deserted planet haunting her dreams, telling her not to follow them as they leave with the money exchanged for their daughter. Ben feels her tears on his arm as she keeps sending him images, and even though they’re the same he saw earlier, this time they’re clear. He can hear the “come back” she murmured to the sky as a child, and the many silent nights she spent curled on herself in the old AT-AT.

“I can’t believe I forgot. I lived there for years, I waited for them and…” _They never came back_. The words don’t leave her mouth, but Ben hears them just the same. “I’ve never felt so alone.”

“You’re not alone,” he protests in a whisper.

She shifts in her arms to face him, causing his heart to miss a few beats. Even in the darkness, he can see how red her eyes are. He misses another one when her hand comes up to cup his face. 

His mother’s theory was on point, to the exception that Rey was never the weapon but always the key. His grandfather never controlled Palpatine- he had _followed_ him, which did make the Senator the most patient Sith in the history of the galaxy indeed. He still isn’t sure why a dark sider would kidnap a child, but the strength he can sense in Rey must be the reason.

He should feel relieved, but there isn’t an ounce of relief in him as he sees the damages of the truth on Rey’s face. A truth she still doesn’t know everything about.

“Rey, there’s… something I need to tell you.”

Her tears stop as she listens to him quietly, nodding through his long explanation. Ben tells her everything: his mother’s plan, her doubts and plans concerning the politics her grandfather has been leading, and the true motivations behind this arrangement she agreed on for them. It’s only after a minute of silence that Rey speaks again, her voice low but determined.

“I’ll kill him.”

“Don’t,” Ben hastens to say. He has no idea what his mother ever intended to do were her suspicions to turn out true, but- “There might be another way. I’ll talk to my mother when I get back, she’ll know what to do. You can come with me, we can leave tomorrow-”

“Ben.” She marks a pause, holding his gaze with a sad look he doesn’t like. “You don’t have to stick to this marriage plan anymore. I’ll do what I can to help your mother, but I’m worth nothing, now. I’m a nobody.”

A dry chuckle leaves her at the last word. The energy passing through the bond between them mirrors her words, carrying a faint darkness in her usual bright light. Ben loses his focus for a moment, desperate to chase the sadness from her voice.

“Rey,” he whispers. “Look at me.”

It takes him a second to find his words as her eyes meet his again, the temptation to wipe the remnants of her tears from the freckles they’re tainting.

“You don’t need anyone to tell you who you are. Just yourself.” He hesitates and raises a hand to her cheek, cupping her face as softly as she did earlier. The contact seems to appease her already, sending warm waves of satisfaction through the bond. “My offer still stands: I care about you, and I’d be more than happy to share a name with you if this sounds like something you’d like.”

The chuckle that leaves her sounds genuine, though quite nervous. “Is that a proposal?”

“It can be,” Ben replies with a low voice. He’s surprised by how easily he said that, and even more surprised when he realizes the short distance between Rey’s face and his. She seems closer than before, maybe even closer than a half a second ago, and his heart- it’s beating faster than ever as he realizes his eyes shifted to her mouth.

He could kiss her. Maybe he should; though there isn’t a hint of duty as he wonders what she must taste like. He should move, though, meet her in the middle and let her do whatever it is she intends to do once she reaches him. The bond is singing around them, encouraging him to close the short distance between them; but Rey stops right as she’s about to seal her lips with his and chuckles instead. Her head drops a few inches and she leans her forehead against his chest, taking his hand in hers.

“Would that be a yes?” Ben asks with a smile.

She nods in the darkness, not fighting him when he brings her hand to his lips and kisses her knuckles. If there’s a hint of disappointment in him, he can’t feel it: his mind is singing along with hers, reveling in the safety of her body huddled against his and the warmth of her breath against his chest.

“You’re not worth nothing,” he murmurs against her fingers. “Not to me.”

“You’re not, either,” Rey answer in a whisper. “Alone.”

Ben wonders if she can hear his heartbeat as her breathing slows down. He wonders if she feels as safe as he feels as she falls asleep in his arms, her hand clutching his every time he so much as moves a little. He wonders, as he hears the soft buzzing of the bond wrapping them in a bubble, if this is what arranged marriages are supposed to be like.

He’s not sure he was supposed to fall in love in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I commissioned the amazing artist [ily_lane ](http://instagram.com/ily_lane/%20https://pic.twitter.com/Q2NRK9wxgl) to draw the braiding scene. Go check her work, she's very talented!
> 
> [(click to enlarge!)](https://twitter.com/reylolujah/status/1337823282448523265?s=20)   
> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me so long, I have no excuse other than: 2020.  
> I'm already writing the following chapter, then there'll be an epilogue. I hope everyone is doing ok, be safe guys.  
> Big thank you to SpaceWaffleHouseTM for her help as beta reader ♥

Rey’s smile comes back with the first lights of the morning. It’s faltering, fading at times, but never fails to make Ben smile in return. It’s a simple curve of her lips, brief and silent, like the colors of the sky in the early morning when the horizon seems to have been painted just for them. It stays on until the humid grass tickles their ankles as they settle under their favorite tree, ready for an early morning meditation usually accompanied by a cup of muja tea- Rey’s favorite.

It’s the most genuine smile Ben has ever seen on her lips. Not the biggest. Not the loudest. But certainly the most beautiful.

They agreed to spend the rest of the week on Naboo just as Ben had planned, with a few exceptions to the initial plan. Ben doesn’t mind exceptions. He's more than alright with Rey’s desire to skip the boring, formal dinners, and doesn’t protest when she stops covering her freckles with powder every morning. He’s also more than happy to avoid his mother’s friends, following Rey around the palace and giggling like a couple of children whenever they end up hidden behind a door or a tapestry. But of all the exceptions they agree on, his favorite is by far the one they make about his accommodations.

Ben has no idea if the bed they assigned him is as comfortable as it seems. His nights are spent in Rey’s, listening to the sound of her voice and letting her fingers lace with his whenever they reach that point of the night where they start getting closer. It’s never much- just a hand above his, fingers grazing his arm when he wakes up holding her, small skin to skin contacts that go on and on until they fall asleep, the bond between them at peace and satisfied.

It’s never much and yet, it’s so, so much more than he’s ever had. He didn’t realize how much he’d been longing for that kind of affection until Rey, and now… now he’s like an addict, reveling in the slightest hints of affection she gives him. And once she closes her eyes and leaves him for the land of dreams, Ben does his best to stay awake as long as he can, just to make sure she won’t vanish- because there’s no way this isn’t a dream. She’s either going to disappear or change her mind... but then again, he would’ve sensed it.

If their nights are spent tangled together, their days are spent exploring each other’s minds. This connection, this bond he felt emerging between them keeps growing every day, up to the point where he’s positive he can distinguish Rey’s emotions from his in the blurry fog surrounding them. It’s like they’re wrapped in a protective bubble created by the Force itself, allowing them to explore each other in complete calmness. And as far as he knows, this is going very well.

Rey is nothing like the woman he met on Alderaan weeks ago: she’s a rough diamond, radiating more and more of these emotions he felt in her as she keeps accessing her older memories. He sees them as she does, and lets her access his in return. It didn’t occur to Ben how much he was keeping to himself until he felt the weight of all those memories leaving him gradually, but letting her in is a relief. She never comments on what he shows her, at least not with words. The looks she gives him are meaningful enough.

“How’s that?”

The branch he was holding slips through his fingers, then floats for a moment before she catches it mid-air in a perfect trajectory. 

“Good,” Ben admits with a chuckle. “But not what we’re trying to do.”

Rey drops the stick to her feet with a shrug, her proud smile lingering on her lips for a few more seconds. Learning to reopen and close at will hasn’t been exactly easy with Rey being so close and bright. Her power is like a magnet, luring his, calling it to tangle until they can’t separate anymore, which, quite frankly, sounds like the opposite of a problem.

“You’re scared because I’m getting better than you are?”

Ben lets out an amused scoff, but… yes. She is. She’s getting better every day, absorbing everything Luke taught him like she needs to be filled with knowledge. What took him days to master takes her hours at most, and Ben can’t help the sense of pride warming the inside of his chest anytime she gives one of those surprised, satisfied smiles.

“Close your mind,” he replies patiently. “Keep your eyes open.”

It’s one of her rare but biggest struggles; closing her eyes whenever she’s focused. It’s not something the Jedi ever condemned during training, but Ben wants her to be untraceable. They’re going back to Alderaan later this week, and even though her grandfather won’t join them for another, with the strength of her force signature, it’s better for both of them that she can’t be sensed by anyone. No force bond, nothing about her memories, and more importantly; not a word about canceling the wedding.

All they need to do is proceed as expected, and wait for the perfect occasion.

Rey’s chuckle makes his heart drop as she sits against the nearest tree, breathless but beaming as she looks up at him. “It’s going to work, right?”

He doesn’t know; but for once, he doesn’t let his pessimism get the best of him and joins her on the grass instead, leaning against the trunk and returning her smile with a fast-beating heart. “I hope it does,” he murmurs.

And just as the sun is setting down on the horizon, her hand finds his, holding him like she doesn’t plan on ever letting go. As usual, Ben chooses to trust her, even just for a few minutes, as he laces their fingers together and watches the pink-painted sky above them. This might be one of their last moments of freedom. His heart skips a beat when Rey rests her head on his shoulder with a satisfied sigh. He’s thought about those feelings, about loosening the last shield standing between Rey’s mind and his. She’s been surprisingly good at processing the news of her true heritage -or lack of- and even better at opening up to him since that day.

In a perfect world, Rey would return his feelings. They wouldn’t have to get married for political reasons. He would plan a beautiful proposal in the gardens, next to those flowers she seemed to like so much- and she would say yes, run away with him and never look back. They wouldn’t have to put an end to a decades-long galactic conflict involving his entire family and the man who kidnapped her.

But even in a perfect world, Ben wouldn’t have been lucky enough to cross her path. And for the first time in his life, Ben finds himself believing in his luck. Because against all odds, Rey’s hand is in his, her fingers tracing invisible lines on his palm as the sky turns into a darker canvas and plunges them into this familiar, safe moment where nothing and no one can reach them.

His shoulder suddenly feels cold, bringing Ben to look down only to find Rey staring at him with another one of those smiles only she can display with such ease.

“What’s wrong?”

His words sound abrupt, distant, nothing like the softness in her eyes as she shakes her head. “Nothing,” she replies, her voice as low as his. “You feel peaceful.”

He can feel her mind grazing him, sending waves of encouragement and satisfaction as his lips curl into a smile he didn’t see coming. Rey brings him inner peace he’s not sure he’s ever felt before, but she might damage his heart if she keeps making her way to it more than she already has.

Her head is back on his shoulder before he can think of something to say, but the silence surrounding them is an even better option. Nothing except the distant song of the waterfalls, slowly lulling them on the verge of sleep.

\- - -

Seeing the usual sea of stars wrap the ship at the jump to lightspeed soothes Ben in a way it hasn’t in years. It’s a sense of familiarity, mixed with the promise of adventure and a feeling of freedom only space can bring. There are no codes of procedures to follow, when lost in an endless sea of stars; just the low humming of the engine, and the fake sense of peace brought by it.

The usual wave of warmth preceding Rey grazes his mind, pulling him out of his reverie just in time to hear her voice echo behind him. “It’s a nice ship,” she comments as she walks into the cockpit. “Your plants aren’t doing so well, though.”

Ben frowns, his hand suspended over the levers of the panel control. “Which plants?”

“The ones in your quarters.”

He’s too lost in the blush covering her cheeks to react properly at first; but once the information makes it to his brain, Ben finds himself unable to talk for a moment. Rey’s voice is a distant blur- something about s. “I’ll get you some new ones when we land,” he murmurs with a nod.

“Those were… for me?”

Ben looks up, this time, and feels his face take a color similar to the one tainting her cheeks. She looks… surprised. Amused.  _ Happy _ . Codes and procedures did follow them, though: she’s back in her formal clothes, her arms and shoulders covered with fine fabric and lace. She’s close to the first version of her Ben met, except for her hair. A thin braid crowns her head, slightly disheveled after a night of sleep, but determined to last. Ben can’t help the small smile curling his lips as he remembers braiding it the night before upon her request.

“You seemed to like them,” he mumbles, pretending to focus on the controls panel to avoid her eyes. It’s so obvious, now that he thinks about it. He’s been in love with her for longer than he suspected. It feels like he’s  _ always  _ loved her. She’s like a missing piece filling the loneliness he’s always carried within, the easy answer to everything he’s ever wondered.

“I do,” she murmurs.

Her breath caresses his neck as she leans closer, only increasing the shivers already running down his spine. I do.  _ I do. _ She’ll say those words again in just a few days- or at least, will be expected to say them. They haven’t worked that much on their plan- that’s something he hopes his mother will help with. All he and Rey have to do is keep their minds close, their bond a secret, and pretend to be desperately in love.

That last part shouldn’t be too big a problem, Ben realizes as Rey’s lips brush his cheek in the smallest kiss. The cockpit feels suddenly way too hot, too small, too silent.

“Me too,” he mumbles in a vain attempt to redirect his thoughts to the conversation.

His thoughts disobey, of course, and go straight for the sensations awakened by the kiss. He thinks about her lips on his skin, lingering, traveling to his mouth and down his throat, blinding him with a storm of freckles and hazel eyes as he revels in the warmth brought not only by her mind, but also her touch. Each shiver, each spasm would be worth it, worth the feeling of her skin against his and-

“Ben!”

Her voice drags him back to reality just in time to avoid an asteroid of considerable size. He’s a good pilot, but not as good as his father. The abrupt change of trajectory throws them both off-balance, forcing Ben to pull the levers towards his chest and hold onto it as Rey grabs the back of his seat, letting out a surprised gasp.

“Sorry,” Ben mumbles shamefully once his heartbeats come back to a reasonable frequency.

In more than a decade of piloting experience, this never happened to him once. He wonders if it might happen again as Rey chuckles nervously, moving her hand to his shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Do you need a break? I can take it over from here.”

“You can pilot a ship?”

He sounds surprised, maybe too much, but Rey doesn’t seem offended and shrugs. “I remember… learning,” she begins, her voice as hesitant as her frown suggests. “On Jakku.”

It’s the first time the name of the desert planet crosses her lips. She makes it sound beautiful, more than it truly is- more than this place deserves, for the treatment she received there. Their eyes meet again as Ben lets her take his place, and a brief smile flashed his way sends his mind wandering towards more uncontrollable thoughts. 

Rey  _ can  _ pilot, indeed. Her eyes scan the control panel, her hands hovering above the levers and fingers dancing over the coordinates board with an ease that pulls a smile out of Ben. Her formal attire makes her look a little out of place, but each movement, each frown crowning her face, everything else makes her fit in a little more. It doesn’t help that Ben wants her to feel like she does. If there’s something he learned from their days on Naboo, it’s that Rey is, understandably, very lost. Her eyes betray it more than her words, each of her smiles not followed by that glimmer in her pupils reminding him of how alone she must be feeling. It’s a familiar feeling, one he wishes she wasn’t experiencing but brings him a sense of comfort over his fears. There’s some guilt in that, of course, mingling with the longing and hope that maybe, deep inside, a tiny part of her feels this pull towards him, too. Maybe he could make her as happy as he’s been for the last week, waking up next to her and hearing her voice first thing in the morning. Maybe he could be the belonging she’s seeking.

“Sit down,” she murmurs, her eyes fixed on the panel as she rectifies their trajectory. “You need some rest.”

Ben feels very well rested already, but he’s not about to protest. Another thought crosses his mind as he watches her get comfortable in his seat. It’s brief and sudden, coloring his cheeks in red as he takes place in the co-pilot seat and pretends to be absorbed by the seatbelt on his right as the mental picture keeps 

Rey, walking in as she just did. Not waiting for him to move and sitting on his lap instead, her back melting into his chest as she gets comfortable not just with the controls but with him, too. He knows, from the nights spent holding her, that her body warms him almost instantly, he suspects has nothing to do with temperature. He would get rid of those endless drapes and shawls hiding her, maybe more if she wants. More would be nice.

A signal interrupts his train of thoughts, echoing against the durasteel walls and keeping him busy enough for the rest of the flight, leaving the ship in the hands of a decidedly fast learner.

They make it to Alderaan in one piece, with Rey still at the helm and Ben watching her in awe as she guides his ship in an almost perfect landing to the private hangar. Leaving the ship feels like leaving the tranquility of the last few days behind them, the frivolity of this break in time a distant memory as they tread across the long corridor leading to the throne room. Alderaan hasn’t changed an ounce since he left, yet Ben feels like he’s walking through an entirely different palace. The walls seem lower, less intimidating, and much, much more comforting. He doesn’t feel like an intruder anymore: this is his home, and he’s going to claim his birthright if this means it can protect Rey. Speaking of-

The sound of his last steps echoes around them as Ben stops by the large door. “Promise me…” He stops for a second, his second searching hers in a desperate attempt to keep himself grounded.

“I know.” Her hand comes up to wrap around his arm, giving a gentle squeeze that only increases his already fast-beating heart. “It’ll be alright.”

A confusing mix of relief and disappointment hits Ben when he realizes the familiar warmth of her force signature can’t be sensed. He’s become way too accustomed to this, but this is good.

His mother is, as expected, busy and surrounded by many of her friends. No royal attire or protocol droids- this is a Resistance meeting. The perfect occasion to introduce Rey, and perhaps update his mother and Queen of the change in their situation.

“Rey, dear! Come here, I was just telling Amilyn about you!”

Ben doesn’t miss the subtle smile curling her lips as she scans Rey’s hairstyle. Her eyes then shift to him, silently acknowledging his presence with a nod and beckoning him to join her, stepping away to leave Rey with her friend and drag him away from the small crowd, her hands wrapping protectively around his bicep.

“You seem happy.” It’s not a question, and yet Ben can feel how much she’s observing his response to it. As good of a politician his mother is, her eyes betray each of her thoughts for who knows her enough to read them. Ben knows- he inherited the same flaw.

“I am.”

A silence falls between them, brief but long enough for his mother to decipher his look as he did hers.

“There’s something new about you,” she continues, tilting her head to the side. “Something new, and... old.”

The brown in her eyes disappears as she squints. Ben can sense her, closer than ever. He’s forgotten the essence of his mother’s force signature, prickly and welcoming at the same time. Many times, she reached out to him and soothed him to sleep, shielding his mind from the voices just enough to lull him back to sleep. The same sensation grazes him as she opens her mouth and closes it, seemingly sensing the change in him. Ben holds her gaze, hesitating. Is this the right time? They haven’t opened up to each other in years, and while he has no doubt she will support him and Rey, Ben isn’t so eager to feel his mother’s emotions towards him. The last time was filled with disappointment and fear- he’s not sure he can handle it again.

“Ben…”

Her voice is a curious mix of surprise and relief, tainted with longing. Ben risks a look in her direction- her eyes are on him, silently asking him the access he’s long denied her… until now. He needs her just as much as she needs him. His family needs him. The kingdom needs him.  _ Rey  _ needs him. And so he opens, little by little, allowing her ever so luminous presence to peer inside his foggy mind.

The first contact stings, like a messy embrace where neither of them remembers how to do that. There’s a lot of clumsiness, their energies bumping into each other, clashing until finally, they find that stability they’d forgotten. It takes Ben a lot of effort to open up, but he feels his mother peering inside as he gradually lets his shields down, allowing her to access his memories from the past few days. Some, of course, he keeps to himself.

“Of course... yes. Oh, Maker... Of course.”

His shoulders relax almost instantly at the look in his mother’s eyes. She’s frowning, probably more than he’s ever seen her do- but the looks she gives him are filled with a kind of concern he hadn’t seen in a long time: a concern mixed with tenderness and genuine care. There’s an understanding, too, bringing so much relief Ben feels a sigh leave him. Whatever happens, they won’t be facing it alone.

“Mother-”

Rey appears by his side suddenly, leaning against him subtly as she smiles and tells his mother about their trip with that voice that makes Ben feel too far away from her. He doesn’t know if he should hold her hand- if he  _ can  _ hold her hand. They’re not supposed to have grown this close, he’s not supposed to have utterly fallen in love with her… and yet, he has. His mother would understand that more than anyone.

His father chooses this moment to erupt into the room, covered in mud and followed by Chewie, growling a series of curses and leaving a trail of dirt behind them. Ben is glad half the people in this room can’t speak a word of Shyriiwook.

“I know, you said that already!” His father retorts, to which Chewie replies with another series of groans his mother rolls her eyes at. Ben knows the amusement she’s hiding behind her straight face. He’s almost tempted to laugh himself, given the ridiculousness of the scene: of all the people standing in the room, the men of the royal family are the ones that look like they arrived straight from the outer rims, himself included. But then again, his father probably does.

“Did you crash it  _ again _ ?” he asks with a smile.

“ _ Her _ ,” the man corrects with an exasperated sigh. “I crashed  _ her  _ again, yes- because that Coruscant nerfherder replaced the power converter and now the whole navigation system is-”

“Someone stole his ship last year and he just got it back,” Ben explains to Rey in a murmur as his father keeps going on about all the changes made on his precious ship.

“Fourth time it happens! In a decade!” The ex-smuggler lets out a frustrated growl, mirrored by his acolyte.

Ben is already biting his lips to prevent a laugh from crossing his lips when his mother speaks again, a crooked eyebrow and a smirk betraying her delight at the scene. “You’d think anyone would see it as a sign to stop flying this thing.”

Everyone laughs, Rey a little quieter than the others. Ben takes advantage of the diversion to brush his hand against hers, pulling her to look at him. Probing her emotions isn’t an option, so he uses his worst flaw to his advantage, hoping his eyes will speak for him. They have only so much time before his father realizes who she is and starts embarrassing him. His mother must’ve sensed his distress and, thankfully, shared his fear.

“Han, why don’t you take Rey here to her apartments on your way to the fresher? I’m sure she had a long trip.”

There’s no way to tell if the confusion in his father’s eyes is due to his wife’s insinuation or by the realization that Rey is here. He looks at her for a moment, frowning like he always does with new people, then gives her a brief nod along with a smirk.

_ He likes her. _

“Rey. Of course.” His eyes shift to Ben, his smirk growing bigger “Pleasure to meet you, kid.”

“Han-”

The scolding tone in his wife’s voice is enough to put a stop to any embarrassing joke he was about to make. Ben gives Rey a brief nod as she looks his way, a subtle hint of panic in her eyes at the idea of being separated. “I’ll see you for our walk,” he promises, fighting the urge to open up and let her know that everything will be ok. He nods again instead, waiting for her to nod back to turn to his mother who immediately wraps her arm around his and guides him to the gardens, where no one else will hear them.

\- - -

The night has long enveloped Alderaan with its coat of darkness when Ben reaches the corridor. He hasn’t been so tired in years, but the conversation he had with his mother was worth the exhaustion.

His heart, that had finally regained a normal rhythm, skips a beat when he notices a familiar figure waiting for him by the door of his apartment. The surprise quickly makes way for the usual happiness hitting him whenever his eyes meet Rey’s, drawing a smile on his lips. “I thought you’d be asleep.”

“I couldn’t. What did she say?”

Even in the darkness, Ben can see the anticipation in her eyes. “We’re engaged,” he says in a murmur, helplessly mirroring her grin when it illuminates her face. “My mother will announce the news tomorrow. We’ll make sure to have the right people attending the ceremony, and once everyone has your attention-” his hands come to take hers, his voice lowering as he continues, “I want you to tell everyone what you showed me. Can you do that?”

She nods, a hint of fear crossing her eyes briefly, gone as fast as it came. “Yes.”

Her hands squeeze his lightly, like a silent thank you. A minute passes, maybe two, before she speaks again, looking up and holding his gaze.

“Ben, can I… can I kiss you?”

Her eyes are filled with determination and oh, he feels insanely stupid at how fast his heart is beating. He can’t let that happen when he just promised to protect her. He can’t let his desires come in the way of her happiness. “You don’t have to,” he mumbles, praying for the right words to leave his mouth. “It’s only requested after the vows, and we might not even reach this part of the ceremony if we-”

“Ben.  _ Can I kiss you _ ?”

His heart skips another beat, then another one as she closes the short distance between them. Ben is about to protest when he feels her open up just enough to reach him because she can’t do that right now. He’s about to say so when a few thoughts -not his- graze his mind, warming up his cheeks and his whole body. Rey keeps holding his gaze as she shows him what she wants to do. Things Ben isn’t sure he can give her; but oh, how he’d love to try.

“Ben, can I-”

His lips catch the words before they cross her mouth. Ben is positive his heart has left his body by now, beating way too fast for it to be healthy. His head is spinning at an insane pace, getting lost in the sensations and begging for more, reveling in the warmth brought by her lips as Rey returns the kiss just as clumsily.  _ He’s kissing her _ . And if the waves of satisfaction she’s sending his way are any indication, Rey is happy about it.

“Invite me inside,” she whispers against his lips.

“We don’t have to- people usually save that part for their wedding night.”

“We might not have many nights left.”

There’s an urgency in her voice, a barely hidden eagerness radiating from her; it just dwells on him how much Rey now fears the man she grew up with. “We’ll have many more,” he promises, pulling away just enough to look at her.

His lips are still hot with the feelings of Rey’s against his, boiling with desire. He would lean in and ask for more right this second, indulge her with as many kisses as she deems necessary if that means she can feel safe. Kriff, he wants her to feel safe enough to see that precious smile again, the one he felt so lucky to witness and that hasn’t left his mind since they left Naboo.

“You don’t know what he’s capable of,” she replies, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“You don’t know what  _ I _ am capable of.”

“Maybe I’d like to know.”

She’s the first person who’s never feared him. He’s shown her the ugliest parts of his mind, and yet here she is, looking at him with this glimmer in her eyes like he’s the most beautiful being in this galaxy, which can’t be because  _ she _ is. Even the darkness can’t hide her freckles away from him. They look like tiny galaxies. He could look at them for hours- except Rey’s mouth is back on his, kissing him with a new intensity. Her hands find their way to his chest, hesitating then landing on his tunic, beckoning him to step backward in a gentle push.

The familiar scent of his apartments hits him from a distance: his mind is entirely focused on Rey, the hint of a smile in her kisses, and the subtle smell of muja tea grazing his nose with each of her movements. He can feel her opening again by the minute, sending waves of her energy all over the place as she keeps deepening the kiss, holding onto the fabric of his tunic a little tighter with each step. Ben can feel not only his face but his entire body warming up, alert and curious at the same time. He hasn’t been able to relax in years, but Rey- she’s making his doubts vanish with a touch, her warm energy clashing with his, taming it until he can’t think anymore, only following her blindly.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Ben murmurs against her lips.

His bed creaks under their combined weights. The bond between them is deafening, singing like a morning bird as Rey settles above him, breaking the kiss with a nervous chuckle. “Neither do I. But we’re in this together, right?”

Ben gulps as he watches her straddling him carefully. His hands come at her sides, shaky until she covers them with hers, steadying his grip on her waist. She then wraps her arms around his neck, tilting her face to claim his lips for the longest, deepest kiss they’ve ever shared.

A few more thoughts graze Ben’s mind. They’re more visual, this time- clear thoughts of her intentions and desires. And so Ben follows them, slowly moving his hands from her hips to search for the ribbons he saw behind her neck earlier. The knot doesn’t give in easily, but he manages to undo it, reveling in the smoothness of her skin as he guides her dress down her back. The fabric reveals a few more freckles running down her collarbone to her breast, like lost stars. He leans in instinctively, kissing them one by one, listening to the bond between them as he keeps going lower. The signals he gets are very encouraging. Maybe too much. He can feel his desire grow stronger every time Rey squeezes her thighs a little tighter around him. She’s so close,  _ too  _ close and yet not enough. He wants to kiss every single part of her body, hold her close and never let go- surely, there’s a way to do that. He gets lost somewhere between her neck and shoulder, leaving long, open-mouthed kisses as she keeps rocking against him, the friction a maddening delight.

“Ben-”

“Tell me-”

“Keep kissing me-”

He obeys immediately, burying his face in the crook of her neck and trailing kisses down her throat. A sigh from above encourages him to keep going, followed with a nervous laugh when his mouth passes her breast.

“Keep going,” she mumbles hastily, running a hand through his hair.

Her fist clenches around his hair when Ben wraps his arms around her, holding her tight as he gets up and switches them around, holding back a moan when Rey’s legs wrap around his waist as he settles above her, making the bed squeak once again under their weight. Ben can feel his body getting warmer as he keeps kissing his way down her body, guiding the rest of her dress down her stomach. A wave of shivers bloom under his mouth as he reaches Rey’s navel, pulling him to look up in concern, scared that he’s gone too far- but all his eyes catch are the sight of a disheveled Rey, staring at him with wide eyes and nodding the moment their eyes meet.

Her hand leaves his hair as her dress finishes its race down her legs. It meets the cold floor without a sound, but the familiar whistle of the bond is more defeaning than ever. Ben feels his stomach drop to his knees as he takes in Rey’s naked body, running his eyes down her skin in a desperate attempt to register every detail.

“You’re so beautiful.”

He can feel Rey ready to protest, but quickly stops her in her tracks by kissing the spot just below her navel. Her legs fall around his shoulders as he keeps following the imaginary line, stopping by her inner thigh to look at her again. He’s positive he heard someone talk about  _ this _ , at the academy.

Surely, it can’t be that complicated.

“Can I…?”

Their connection has never been stronger: her approval is very clear, both by her eager nod and the thoughts sent his way. And so Ben goes back to his initial task, burying his face between her legs and listening to her silent indications religiously. Her legs slide along his back as his tongue goes faster, exploring her eagerly, reveling in the reactions he’s provoking in her body, each moan a reward that encourages him to keep going. It doesn’t take long for her thighs to squeeze around his neck again. Ben can feel the intense wave of pleasure traveling down Rey’s body, awakening his every sense. Her legs relax around his body, allowing him to crawl back above her and kiss the corner of her mouth with a sense of satisfaction and pride.

“I think I’m in love with you, she whispers when he pulls away.

Her voice is tinted with a fear Ben doesn’t quite understand. He cups her face with both his hands, searching for any hint of worry shadowing her features. He wishes he could take them away. He leans in instead, claiming her lips with his as tenderly as he can as his mind focuses on sending waves of reassurance her way.

“I love you too.”

A silence falls between them, but it’s not a bad silence. He can see Rey looking at him, her lips curled into a small smile as she reaches for his cheek, cupping it with her hand while the other keeps toying with the button of his tunic. She speaks again with a low, but happy voice. “Can you say it again?”

“I love you.”

His hands go straight for her hair as she helps him get rid of his clothes, undoing the braid he did this very morning. Some strands of her hair fall in his eyes as he switches them again, now indifferent to the sounds his bed makes. He doesn’t mind- he’ll choke on her hair for hours if it means he can feel her skin against his for just as long.

“I love you,” he murmurs again, meeting her movements with his own. “I love you.”

He keeps repeating it through the night, letting her explore his body as he did hers, murmuring the three words as soon as his lips aren’t busy chasing hers. For the first time in years, his room isn’t filled with nightmares, the melody of Rey’s laugh and gasps echoing around them chasing all the monsters away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can follow me on Twitter as @reylolujah !


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. 2020, huh? I hope everyone's ok ♥  
> A huge thank you to HarpiaHarpyja for her help with this chapter!

“Rey, dear. Your grandfather has arrived.”

A groan vibrates against Ben’s chest, barely muffled by the covers. A soft smile paints his lips as he wraps an arm around Rey’s shoulders, clearing his throat before he speaks.

“She’ll be there soon, mother.” He waits for the footsteps to stop echoing behind his door to look down at Rey, using his free hand to slip a finger under her chin and lift it up carefully, like she’s the most precious being in the galaxy. “Good morning.”

Rey lets out a second groan as a response, opening her eyes with difficulty. “Morning.”

Her hair is absolutely disheveled, her crown of braids a distant memory. Ben can’t help running a hand through it, clearing her face from the rebellious strands with the selfish need to see her properly. The morning light is shyly piercing through the curtains, just bright enough to allow him to see the freckles scattered across her nose and cheekbones. Ben isn’t sure he’ll ever get enough of these. He’s still amazed by the morning constellations on her skin every time he wakes up by her side, even after all these days. She _is,_ without a doubt, the most precious being in the galaxy.

_He’s here._ Ben doesn’t want to say the words, but it’s clear Rey heard them. It’s also alarming that she did. They’ve been way too reckless, losing themselves in the fake sense of safety brought by each other’s arms. But Ben doesn’t regret a minute of it. He’d risk his life a million times just to feel Rey’s warmth against him one more night, her muffled moans against his neck as he bites his lips in a vain attempt to drown his own sounds, his body meeting hers like it was always supposed to. He was never one to believe in true love, but this feeling between them, this sense of belonging; it can’t be anything but fate. His father told him love felt like completion, but he never mentioned anything about the feeling of sharing one soul. Even Luke didn’t tell him about this, when he supposedly learned all there was to know about the Force.

Another groan takes him out of his thoughts, bringing his attention back to the woman still laying across his chest.

“How did your mother know I was here?”

“We haven’t been very careful.”

A soft chuckle leaves them both, Rey’s a little more embarrassed than his as he starts drawing circles on her bare back with the tip of his finger, his thoughts drifting to the many morning walks they shared. Keeping his hand away from hers wasn’t an option then, and neither was it in the long, empty corridors of the palace. His mother probably saw them, or caught him stealing glances across the dining room. He could’ve sworn they’d been more careful about Rey sneaking out of her apartments for the night, though- but his mother’s instinct is something just as fascinating as it is terrifying.

His smile vanishes when he remembers his mother’s words. Slowly, as if this will allow him to stay in bed longer, Ben moves his hand up Rey’s spine and runs his fingers through her waves, bringing his lips to her forehead.

“I promise you,” he whispers between kisses, “whatever happens today, nothing and no one will hurt you.” Her head bumps against his as she nods, but he can feel the uncertainty radiating from her. “Close your mind,” he asks after another kiss. “Please.”

She doesn’t nod this time. Her silence lasts a few seconds before Ben feels her ever-glowing presence grow apart from him, fading by the second. It’s like a torture, except it’s one he chose. A temporary torture for a much more important cause.

Her hand slips under his after a moment, drawing goosebumps over his skin as she laces their fingers together, her short nails grazing his chest. She gives him a gentle squeeze, as if to assure that she’s still here. It’s all Ben needs to follow her, focusing his strength on raising the mental walls that had become a second nature for the last few years. They feel much less familiar now, like a blindfold obscuring his sight. His hand squeezes Rey’s in return. He understands, now; the need to feel her physically is bigger than ever. His eyes can’t get enough of her face, and he isn’t sure he’ll be able to let go of her come the moment to let her get ready for the ceremony.

Rey manages to get him out of bed eventually, negotiating through kisses and smiles and helping him find his tunic among the clothes they carelessly tossed around the night before. His room looks like a battlefield, clothes and empty trails scattered over the floor. He needs to take care of this before the place becomes a fitting room. Good instinct or not, he’d rather avoid any embarrassing conversation with his family; especially right before the most important ceremony of their lives.

“Ben?”

His eyes shift to Rey, alert, his hand inches away from the doorknob. There’s something immensely frustrating about the absence of their bond, but Ben quickly realizes he doesn’t need the Force to know what’s happening. Her hand clutches at his sleeve, her eyes full of fear and crowned with a frown as she stares at the door, her lower lip concealed between her teeth.

“I’m here,” Ben promises, bringing her hand to his mouth to leave a soft kiss. “We can do it.”

Her nod is almost imperceptible as she closes the gap between them, claiming his lips with hers for a kiss that feels a lot like the last of a kind. Ben can’t do much but return it, doing his best to convey everything he can’t say with the movement of his mouth against hers. That he’ll be here. That he’ll fight for her, and that she’ll never be alone again. He misses the way her soul usually vibrates against his in those moments, but the warmth of her lips is a nice substitute for now.

A subtle smile makes its way to her lips as they pull away, begrudgingly, squeezing the other’s hand one last time before Ben opens the door.

The Grand Entrance Hall is, as expected, crowded. Ben recognizes some of his mother’s friends and allies, blinking before him as a silent acknowledgement as he and Rey walk to his mother, ready to welcome the most important guest of the day.

“Sorry, we had a-”

“I asked Ben to show me the gallery. Again.”

His mother’s face doesn’t move an inch, but Ben knows she’s hiding an amused smile similar to her husband’s. “I’m sure he did,” she replies calmly. Ben allows himself a brief smile at the sight of his father’s lips disappearing a little more in a vain attempt to repress his laugh. “Your grandfather is here, Rey, I think he’d like a word before we get you ready.”

Ben’s eyes shift to the less crowded part of the hall. Her grandfather- no, _Palpatine-_ is looking at them from across the room, smiling calmly under his eternal hood. It takes Ben an insane amount of effort to remain calm and composed- but more importantly, unattainable. He’s tempted to check if Rey’s done the same, but one wrong move could be the end of their plan. He can only trust her and his training. Still, he allows himself to take her hand.

His mother notices. So does Palpatine.

_Good._

“I’m sure Rey can handle it herself.”

His mother’s voice is just a whisper, barely audible. Ben mentally curses himself when he realizes how many people could’ve heard that. He can’t let his emotions drive him; not right now. One more event. One more day, and this will be over for good. One last time.

His hand lets go of Rey’s as she walks to the man who raised her, her last look for Ben a mix of longing and reassurance. He replies with a nod, watching her disappear into the crowd.

He’s already mourning the feeling of her presence when he hears the Senator greet her with that chilling honeyed voice of his, communicating his surprise that she didn’t wait for his return to get engaged. A warm hand lands on Ben’s shoulder, bringing him back to a more balanced state.

“Come on, kid. There’s someone who would like to have a word with you, too.”

His head bobs in a neutral nod as he turns back to his father, ready to rehearse the plan with his mother in her study. They’ve done it so many times in the last few days, but Ben isn’t against any kind of distraction keeping him away from the man currently holding Rey’s hand. He’s more than willing to let his mother redirect his thoughts elsewhere.

His heart warms a little when he looks in her direction. As tough and distant as she’s been, her presence is one of the most reassuring, today. His mother won a war, took the throne despite the many rumors surrounding her, and remains a respected queen despite the horrors of her family. Now would be a good time to take after her. Ben’s eyes meet hers across the room, searching for that familiar warmth of hers, but she looks away quickly, glancing nervously at the man standing right beside her. Ben’s heart skips another beat as he glances at him, too. It skips another when he realizes what it means.

Because as if this day couldn’t get any worse, his uncle had to be invited.

**\- - -**

The walk to the royal study feels interminable. Ben mourns the comfort of the silences shared with Rey for the past week. The silence he’s experiencing right now is a heavy one, filled with an energy he can feel even without the Force. There’s embarrassment on his mother’s features, complemented by his father’s unease as the door closes.

Luke hasn’t changed a bit since the last time Ben saw him. His eyes are the same azure beads that used to haunt Ben’s nights, scanning his surroundings with a look filled with judgment. His hair is a little more grey, though- Ben notices it as he steps closer to the window, the natural light of the Alderaanian sun shining on his uncle’s hair. He looks tired, too. More than before. His voice, though, hasn’t changed.

“Well, my congratulations, Ben. I never thought I’d live to see the day you would get marri-”

“Why are you here?”

This silence is one they haven’t had in years. The kind that’s filled with tension, wide eyes and words begging to leave his chest and jump in his uncle’s face, crawl down his throat and give him a taste of what exactly he thinks about his presence here today. Ben hasn’t felt so much anger in years. He’s used to the guilt, but the anger- that’s the enemy he’s been desperately ignoring for way too long. His skin is boiling against the itching fabric of his tunic, and his mind… his mind might be boiling with the strength of a thousand volcanoes. All his efforts, all his work to remain calm and contained in the name of peace shattered by his uncle, once again. 

There’s only one reason why his mother would ask her brother to come here: they don’t think Ben can do it. They think he will fail, just like he failed his training, and everything else before. They think he needs Luke. They think they don’t need him.

“This is my fight, Ben. Not yours.”

Luke’s smile disappears with his words, making room for a serious expression Ben knows way too well. Determination, with a hint of sadness that sometimes made him wonder if his uncle really wanted to be the famous and respected Jedi Master. Luke looks smaller than he remembered. He must’ve grown since their last encounter is all, but there’s something less… _less_ , about his uncle as he looks at him. He’s not the figure he used to look up to. Still, the words leave him before he can get any control over them.

“Your fight? How is this _your_ fight?”

“This war is bigger than you, Ben.” Familiar words he’s heard before, again and again. “This all started way before you were born, this is between my family and-” 

“ _Your_ family?”

The new silence that falls over them isn’t as uncomfortable as its predecessors. His father has long stopped smiling, staring at Luke with disbelief while his mother stands in the opposite side of the room, her mouth seemingly unsure what to do or what to say. Even Luke looks uncomfortable, shameful even, his own words washing over him. Ben doesn’t feel uncomfortable in the least: he _owns_ this silence. _He_ gets to choose when to break it, and how long he’ll let his family get drowned in shame by the sad truth his uncle just exposed. Luke’s lapsus is nothing he didn’t already know. There is a _them_ and a _he_ , a distinct separation between the three war veterans and the only child they had to look after.

“I’m sorry,” Ben says after a long moment. “I’m sorry I wasn’t the perfect apprentice. Or son,” he adds with a glance towards the royal couple.

His mother takes a step in his direction the same time Ben takes one backwards.

“I’m sorry I disturbed your perfect family,” he continues, his hand wrapping around the doorknob a little too hastily. “I’ll be gone after the ceremony. I don’t want the throne.”

The three of them call his name when he leaves the room, their voices a distant sound as Ben heads for the East wing. He can’t go back to the reception- not like this. He can’t do this to Rey.

_Rey._ His thoughts drift her way as he reaches the garden, his steps slowing down when he realizes where exactly he is. His eyes land on the flowers Rey admired every morning. He thinks about her, alone in a crowd of strangers, so close but too far for him to reach. She needs him to keep pretending, just for today. Just a few more hours, and they can leave.

“Ben?”

His father’s voice echoes behind him, dragging him away from his thoughts. Their eyes meet above the bushes, Ben’s a little wider than before. He’d expected his mother to follow him, maybe even to give him a lesson about duty and selflessness. Luke would’ve followed her, waiting on the side to come back once the path is clear; but a brief glance above his father’s shoulder informs Ben that they’re alone.

“Hey. Sorry kid, they…” Something passes in his father’s eyes, between shame and irritation. Ben recognizes the little frown as he walks to him, his look shifty and his hands hooked at his belt. Ben knows this posture: it means his parents had a disagreement, and that his father was sent to convince him of something.

A sigh heaves the man’s chest when he reaches him, ending in a whisper. “Sorry.”

That’s a word Ben heard a lot growing up. Sorry for leaving for so long. Sorry for being late. Sorry for missing dinner, or a birthday. Sorry was like a speech mannerism in their family, used too much with very little meaning.

This one sounds different.

“You were… the most beautiful thing to happen to this family.” Ben looks up at his father’s words, surprised. “I remember the day you were born. Your mother was expected to give a speech at the commemoration ceremony of the-”

“Battle of Endor.”

Ben knows this story. He’s heard it too many times. How could he forget, when it’s been brought up every year since he was born? Born in the shadow of a war he never experienced, that yet set the rhythm of his childhood and deprived him of a normal life.

“Your mother canceled her meeting as soon as she sensed you,” his father continues patiently. His eyes seem lost in the memory he’s sharing. “She always said she felt connected to you in a way she couldn’t explain. There was a special bond between the two of you, something I couldn’t feel or understand.”

Ben can feel the anger slowly leaving him as he listens to his father. His fists are relaxing with each of his words. They never talked about any of these things. His father was never one to display his feelings, and nor was his mother. Incidents were forgotten, arguments avoided for the sake of peace. The idea of having been a blessing is far from what he’s always felt.

“You shook our whole world. You became the center of our galaxy, you were- so small, so fragile. You were terrifying. I never knew what you wanted, but your mother...” His father scoffs, shaking his head with a smile. “She always did.” A chuckle forces him to pause, a shadow from the past in his eyes. “She always understood the meaning of each of your tears.”

“What are you-”

“You kept this family together, kid. You were the beam of light after years of despair. I know it hasn’t been easy, but…” His hand lands on Ben’s shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to us. I’m sorry we didn’t know how to handle it. Now come on, you have a wedding to attend.”

His father’s hand lets go of his shoulder, its warmth leaving a weight behind as Ben feels his lips curve into the hint of a smile. “We should probably go back and talk to-”

“Later,” his father cuts him off with a shake of his head. “One day at a time.”

His hand moves between his shoulders, gently guiding him back inside the palace. Ben can’t do much but nod and follow his father through the corridors leading to his room. He can’t help smiling as they walk in silence, his shoulders a little less heavy with his father by his side as he’s about to face the most important and dangerous day of his existence.

**\- - -**

The Grand Entrance Hall is empty when Ben and his father reappear a few hours later, fully dressed and more anxious than ever. Faint laughs can be heard from the throne room, which means his mother has successfully located their guests and maintained peace during their absence. _Good_. His thoughts drift to Rey again as he smooths his tunic with his hands, wincing at the roughness of the fabric on his skin.

“Always hated those things,” his father mumbles with a smirk.

Formal attires are just one of the many traditions Han avoided, always showing up to ceremonies in his eternal leather jackets and boots. Queen Organa was always too much of a respected sovereign to be criticized for it, but other politicians never missed an opportunity to give him the side-eye, to which he loved to reply with an even more outrageous behavior, to his son’s greatest amusement. Ben remembers sitting on his father’s dresser years ago, giggling and helping him pick an outfit for one too many formal events his mother was hosting. _What do you say, kid? Blaster?_ He remembers the look on his mother’s face when they both walked into the room in civilian clothes, blasters hooked around their waists. Ben’s hadn’t been loaded, of course; but it’d been enough for his mother to storm out of the throne room and remind her husband of her opinion on blasters inside the palace with what Ben called her “queen voice”. The memory drags a chuckle out of him as he smooths the tunic one more time, nodding quietly. His father catches his smile and returns it.

“Ready?”

Ben nods again, his eyes on the door separating them from everyone else.

He wishes he would’ve been anxious about getting married. He wishes the lump in his throat wasn’t out of fear for his life, for Rey’s and everyone else present today. He’s not sure he’s ready for such a thing as saving the galaxy from its greatest evil. But neither was his mother, or his father- or even his uncle.

“Ready.”

The laughs stop as soon as the door opens, about fifty pairs of eyes turning his way at the same time. Ben recognizes most of them, offering polite nods to his mother’s allies as he walks to the far end of the room where the throne overlooks the assembly. Each guest returns his salutation with smiles, their eyes all filled with the same hope his mother carries with her. Ben feels his stomach tighten as he keeps walking, seized by the nostalgia of a time he never knew. All these people, hoping to finish a war that defined their whole lives. He can’t understand half of their worries. He probably never will. And today, he’s the one their hope rests upon.

His eyes find his mother, sitting at the front row with Luke by his side. She’s always been so good at hiding her concerns from the rest of the world. Even today, a stranger wouldn’t guess the complex emotions hidden behind that polite smile of hers as she nods at her son in that ever-so-reassuring apparent calmness. Ben slows down to return her nods, then hesitates a few seconds before risking a glance at his uncle. Their eyes meet again, unsure whether or not to linger. Ben feels something tighten around his stomach, like an invisible hand luring him to open and see how his uncle feels. There’s so much to say, and not enough words to express everything they would need to talk about. The admiration Ben once held for Luke died the day he felt the fear and disappointment boiling inside his master the night he came to confess his struggles. He wonders, as neither of them breaks eye contact, what would’ve been said had he not left earlier. Apologies, maybe. He’s dreamt about it more than once, and more recently than he’d like to admit. Ben always imagined he’d be strong enough to forgive Luke, and thus be the wisest of them both. But feeling his uncle’s gaze on him as he walks past the guests area, Ben isn’t so sure anymore. His doubts grow bigger as he progresses towards the altar, like new voices coming to torment him despite his efforts to keep the old ones at bay. It isn’t until his father’s hand lands on his shoulder again that he realizes how tense he’d become.

“Breathe.”

His father nods, his eyes shifting to the weapon hooked at Ben’s. Ben didn’t want to take it at first: his old lightsaber had always felt like too big a danger between his hands. His fingers brush the hilt as he returns his father’s nod. A lightsaber might come in handy, even if only to bring him peace of mind during the vows. Speaking of-

The chuckle his father lets out sounds incredibly distant when Ben finally turns to the altar. His heart misses a beat, only to drum faster as his eyes try to focus on every single part of the woman standing before him.

A long, rose gold gown envelops her figure, tightened at her waist by a golden belt Ben recognizes immediately from his mother’s royal portrait. A long cape of the same tint is draped over her shoulders, hiding her arms with delicate lace mirroring the belt with golden embroideries. His gaze gets lost above her belt for a minute, the low-cut neckline bringing him back to better memories from the precious carefree days they got to spend together. A quick but strong nudge in the ribs brings him back to reality, and to the smile of his fiancée. Her lips have been painted in a beautiful cherry hue. Before he can mentally curse makeup for hiding her best features, Ben notices her freckles haven’t been covered this time. Her nose and cheekbones are scattered with the usual constellations he likes so much, brightened by two fine brown lines framing her hazel eyes. Her hair has been arranged into the traditional style his mother and grandmother wore for their own weddings: two large braids keeping her face clear from any rebellious strands, meeting at the back of her head before merging into her soft waves.

She’s beautiful, her smile a little less bright than usual yet still warm enough to appease Ben as he returns it with a smile of his own.

“Don’t get too distracted,” his father murmurs. His steps come to a stop as they reach the single step leading to the altar, flashing his son a wink before he steps away to join the rest of their family on the nearest seats. 

The last few steps aren’t as scary as Ben had imagined. He remembers the first time his mother mentioned the possibility of a marriage, and his reluctance at the prospect of being forced to remain forever bonded to someone. This now feels far from a punishment, as he stops in front of Rey and hears the holy man clear his throat next to them. He’s a friend to the crown, of course; everything today is nothing but pretend. Everything but his feelings for the woman looking back at him, offering a hand Ben takes immediately, reveling in the warmth of her palm against his as the murmurs cease, allowing the ceremony to begin.

“We are gathered here today, with the Maker for witness, to join together these two people in the Force. Now I understood the young lovers wanted this ceremony to be a fast one, so I will keep it brief.”

Ben catches his mother nodding quietly from her seat. She doesn’t look as peaceful as she was moments before, her brow creased in a frown as she watches intently.

“Ben Bail Organa Solo.” Ben jumps a little at his name, surprised to be mentioned first. “You were born on Chandrila, from your mother Queen Leia Organa and your father General Han Solo.”

His nod is brief, hasty. This is the last second of peace before they reach the most anticipated part of the plan. Rey seems to have guessed his thoughts, and gives his hand a gentle squeeze. Even on such a day, even without any access to the bond between them, she’s a light in the darkness. Ben gives her a smile, tightening his grip on her hand when he hears the holy man speak again.

“Rey Palpatine. You were born on Naboo, from your mother Nyla Seer and your father Leyll Palpatine.”

Ben feels his entire body stiffen in anticipation of her answer. It was his mother’s wish to keep the last part of the plan a secret, his only instructions being to keep Rey safe and away from everyone while she and her allies handle the rest. With what little focus he has left, Ben concentrates on inhaling and exhaling at a reasonable pace. His body suddenly feels too heavy for his legs, and he’s not entirely sure what to do to keep a neutral expression. Rey isn’t moving either, her hand like frozen in his. Ben risks a glance her way, giving her a gentle squeeze. Her expression changes with a blink as she turns to the holy man.

“I was not.”

Ben feels his heart skip a beat before it starts racing. There isn't a single sound around them. Only the deafening silence of about fifty people holding their breaths.

And then-

A laugh.

A low, bloodcurdling laugh, and a voice straight out of Ben’s nightmares.

“You thought I didn’t sense you? You thought you could _hide from me_?”

Another laugh leaves the Senator, leaving the whole assembly speechless, their eyes wide and faces livid. Ben catches his mother’s eyes. She looks just as surprised as he does, her frown betraying the hatred she holds towards their family’s enemy and a much more alarming fact: this isn’t what she was expecting.

Ben tightens his grip on Rey’s hand, his other hand slowly reaching for his lightsaber. Some of his mother’s friends have left their trance to surround him, the rest slowly walking to the door. Ben feels his heartbeat reaching every part of his body, louder with each pulse until he locks eyes with Palpatine. The man immediately smiles at him.

It’s like facing the eye of a hurricane, trapped with complete blindness to the commotion around them. Even Rey seems far away, the sensation of her hand in his long gone. For a brief moment, there’s only him, silence, and the man who caused so much suffering to his loved ones. Only them, and the conclusion that it would only take one strike of his lightsaber to avenge them all.

His thumb brushes the metallic hilt when a whistle echoes in his ear, sudden and deafening.

“Ben!”

Rey calls him again, her voice distant. There’s a commotion behind, distant as well, and the distinct sound of a door being slammed. Ben risks a look around him, his eyes scanning the room. The light is bright, way too bright- it takes him a few seconds to realize the benches are empty. Both his parents seem to have disappeared with their guests, as well as his uncle. Most benches have been knocked down, giving the room a sense of chaos increased by the sounds of people banging against the door. More voices join them, much closer. Whispers, hushed murmurs traveling through his mind, getting sharper and digging deeper until they reach the hidden part, the one he’s gotten so good at keeping buried in the deep ends of himself.

“ _Get out of my head_ ,” he mutters through gritted teeth.

The whistling increases at his words, mingling with flashes from past nightmares. The cave, his reflection, _that look_ in his eyes, the shadow of a red lightsaber as he considers his family with a growing anger boiling in his chest. The whispers grow louder, slowly turning into the voice Ben’s heard too many nights.

“I was _always_ in your head.” An invisible force pushes him from behind, his knees hitting the ground with a thud. “I was every dream and nightmare, every _thought_ you ever had-”

A loud bang on the wall interrupts him, followed with a scream, then a new silence. Ben’s vision becomes a bit clearer, allowing him to see Rey frowning above him, cupping his face with shaking hands. He’s not quite sure what she’s saying; her lips are moving, but her voice is still too distant for him. He wishes he could take that worry off her face, give her that radiant smile again and revel in her happiness. His hand comes to cover hers clumsily, prompting another cold laugh from Palpatine.

“Look at you.” His voice echoes around the high walls, low and hissing. “I expected your offspring to rise in darkness, but she made you _weak_.”

Something familiar awakens in Ben. Something wild, untamed and strong enough to bring him back to his feet with a few grunts. Rey is still by his side when he glances her way, looking at him with a fear he can’t quite explain. His hand reaches for the weapon at his belt, his pulse racing with anger.

“Oh, I won’t hurt her. She’s no longer of any use.” His voice is filled with that oversweetness Ben always hated, his words bringing more anger than reassurance. He wants to hurt him, hurt him so much it’ll take this smirk off his face. The man’s slow steps come to a stop as the thought crosses Ben’s mind. “Unless that would awaken your true self.” 

A thin, almost grey hand comes out of his sleeve, aiming for Rey. Her hand crunches Ben’s before it slips between his fingers to grab her throat. She looks terrified, her eyes wide open with her lips trembling, gasping for air as an invisible force closes around her neck. Ben feels his stomach twist and turn, and his promise from the morning haunting him as Rey’s face goes livid. _Whatever happens today, nothing and no one will hurt you._

“Let her go,” he mutters. “Let her go!”

Palpatine’s smile broadens, only increasing the anger flowing through Ben. _He has no right to touch Rey._ The simple thought that he’s been keeping her to himself all these years like a precious possession drives him insane. He wants to make him suffer for what he’s done, what he’s saying right now, and for the pained gasps coming from Rey. The old man’s hand cuts through the air in a swift and controlled movement, sending Rey to the other side of the room. A loud thud resounds as she hits the floor, only increasing the fire growing inside of him.

“I was there when you were lonely,” Palpatine continues, his whisper echoing around the room, each hissed syllable hitting the stones roughly. “I was there when they lied to you.” His hood is long gone, his face in full display for the first time. He’s marked by something much more ruthless than time. The wrinkles and scars covering his skin are a dark signature caused by pure cruelty and hatred. “I saw your suffering. They kept the truth away from you because they were afraid of your potential.”

Ben feels his mother try to reach him. Neither of them can ignore the truth behind his words. She feels just like she did the night he left Luke, even much more devastated, and memories rush through his mind. Memories of shame, guilt and questions unanswered. Endless nights filled with nightmares of a black helmet covering his face and voices whispering Vader’s name again and again until it somehow became his. A sharp pain travels up his temples as Ben tries to focus on the present, his words leaving him in a breath.

“I’m not my grandfather.”

His mental shields are gradually sinking. He can feel Palpatine peeking through the breaches, sensing the doubt in his affirmation. “Yes. He was excluded, too. They saw a darkness in him and decided they couldn’t trust him. But _I_ did.”

His voice envelops Ben’s mind like a snake gliding delicately, waiting for the right moment to strike. He isn’t sure when he unhooked his lightsaber from his belt, or when his fingers pulled the silver switch. The blue light blinds him at first, surprising him by its energy. It’s just as bright as it was years ago. The hilt feels a little lighter against his palm. After a decade apart, holding his weapon feels better than Ben had anticipated. It’s like meeting an old friend again. A friend he built night after night, and thought himself unworthy of. He remembers Luke’s concerns about the crossguard, and his own attachment to the kyber crystal he’d chosen. Broken, unstable- similar to its owner, just as Luke had advised.

Another laugh echoes around him, this time altered by the low purr of his lightsaber.

“The exact same reactions,” Palpatine comments with a dulcet voice. “You are _exactly_ like your grandfather.”

Ben has known anger his whole life, silent and loud, dark and bright. He’s seen every face of it, except maybe the one facing him right now. it’s much more intense than usual, close at hand, boiling. He could very well make the man choke on his own words with a twist of his wrist and watch the regret fill his eyes as he suffocates. He’s never felt so filled with the Force, so encouraged to surrender to his impulses.

“ _Yes_. Let it flow through you. Let your anger guide you.” 

“I’ll kill you.” The promise leaves him in a hoarse voice, fueling the fire inside his chest as the taste of blood fills his mouth and crawls between his teeth.

“Do it.”

The words freeze him for a moment. He’s been there before, in dreams. He’s seen the face of another man before him, staring into these exact same eyes. Hesitating. Too long. 

“ _Ben_.”

The storm inside him evaporates at the sound of Rey’s voice. She’s warm and bright, chasing the clouds with the same ease she did that first night, on the balcony. Ben can sense her light near him, begging for him to open once again. It’s a high risk to take; but Ben takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, focusing all his strength on his intention. He sees Palpatine walking between the benches, his hood falling down his shoulders and hands extended forward, weak sparks flying between his fingers. He sees his own reflection, his eyes closed and brow creased in a frown. The whispers feel long gone, muffled by the familiar humming of the bond, and Rey’s signature reaching for his like a warm embrace. He sees her intentions, clear and solid through the faint buzzing of Palpatine’s presence. Carefully, he opens his hand and lets his lightsaber slide through his fingers.

“Do it!”

Ben opens his eyes just in time to see the look of surprise on the man’s face as the laser blade pierces through his ribs. Everything freezes for a second, his gasp bouncing between the walls as he stares at Ben. Their eyes meet for an instant, and Ben sees the last thing he would’ve expected from the old man: fear. For a brief second, he can feel Palpatine’s terror at the idea of his own death. He senses his despair, his need to be remembered and powerful as he falls like an empty puppet. But as his corpse hits the ground, Ben feels something crawl inside of him, pushing him to his knees as well. It’s a whole new kind of pain- one that travels through his body too fast for him to even process the burns it leaves on its way, like a feral creature looking for a shelter and an escape at the same time. It’s dark and warm, almost familiar. The whispers are back, louder, blending with his usual nightmares and making them appear more authentic than ever.

“Ben. Look at me- _look at me_.”

Two hands grab his face, soft and trembling against his cheeks. The contact pushes him to open his eyes, and Ben doesn’t regret it: even with worries and dry blood hiding her freckles, Rey remains the most beautiful being he’s ever seen. She’s so beautiful that he feels a few tears rolling down his cheeks as he grits his teeth, desperately trying to close his mind again, because she can’t see it- she can’t be part of the war he’s fought his whole life just when he’s losing it. She can’t look at him when he’s grabbing each strand of darkness he can, fighting to take control and stay in like he’s always done.

“Ben, let me in,” she begs with a low voice.

He shakes his head, immediately regretting the movement. “Stay away.”

The hands cupping his face tighten their grip at its word, her thumbs wiping his tears away.

“I’m not leaving you alone,” Rey murmurs, shaking her head. “I’ve seen your mind. It’s nothing like what he said.”

“You didn’t see everything-”

“I did. You _know_ I did. It’s not your thoughts that are dangerous, it’s what you make of them.” Her hand strokes his cheek tenderly, just as it did a few nights ago. “Let me in,” she repeats. “Please.”

Her last word brushes his lips; and with a simple kiss, Rey brushes his visions away. Her mouth claims his delicately, far from the first clumsy embraces they shared. It’s far from her usual hunger, too. This side of her is one Ben only sees in bed, when her mind is wandering through dreams or her gasps filling the gap between their bodies.

Opening up to her is far easier than keeping her at bay. The bond is raw and strong when she meets him, her energy tangling with his again. Little by little, Palpatine’s presence leaves his body completely, replaced by Rey’s aura. The thoughts and memories don’t vanish with him, though- but Ben feels them shrinking as Rey fills his mind with new ones. Flashes of their training sessions on Naboo, of the dinners with his family and the night spent whispering to each other. She’s sending thoughts, too- memories they haven’t made yet, walks they haven’t taken on planets they haven’t visited. Another ceremony, smaller and much happier. Ben likes it.

Slowly, he loops an arm around her waist to ground himself, a part of him needing to make sure she isn’t a vision, too. Rey smiles at the thought, leaning closer again and assuring him through the warmth of her lips against his that she’s far from a vision. Her eyes bore into his when she pulls away, like she’s searching for something. “Be with me,” she murmurs. “Please.”

And as usual, Ben doesn’t have it in him to refuse her anything.

His arm tightens around Rey as he gathers his strength to send her warm waves of reassurance through the bond. The last remnants of his mental walls fall one after the other, welcoming every surrounding energy to mingle with his. He feels his mother’s signature timidly grazing his as the door reopens, allowing more light to blur his vision for a second. He feels his uncle, too, distant but present. Even his father seems to carry some sort of signature with him, soft but existent.

A few gasps of surprise can be heard as the guests carefully step inside, their eyes wide at the sight of their enemy’s corpse laying on the cold floor. A few brave politicians take it upon themselves to step closer and check his pulse, as if the thought of his death couldn’t be a possibility. The process goes on for a few minutes; and, slowly, the tension dissipates. A nervous laugh spreads through the crowd, then turning into screams of victory and sighs of relief.

A chuckle leaves Rey as well as she wipes the tears on her cheeks and clears her throat. “Let’s get married another day, what do you think?”

Ben feels his heart warm at her words. All this time, he thought he was protecting Rey and fighting for her, but she proved him wrong once again. She saved him as much as he saved himself, reached him through the darkness and stood by his side when the moment came. She’s nothing like the expected suitor his mother described, Ben thinks as one of his hands reaches for her face, slowly brushing the dry blood away from her temples. She’s the best thing to ever happen to him; and judging by the feelings Ben feels flowing through the bond, she doesn’t plan on going anywhere.

“Another day,” he agrees.

Of all the members of the family, Luke is the first to reach them. His face, usually neutral and unreadable, is filled with concern as he locks eyes with Ben. For a brief moment, something passes between them, and Ben feels his uncle reopening as well, allowing him to access some of his feelings. There’s more regret in his soul than Ben ever suspected. Regrets and self-disappointment, and somewhere between all of it, the apologies that were kept quiet for years.

Silently, the old Master holds out a hand. Ben hesitates for a second, a faint smile reaching his lips when he notices the leather glove enveloping his uncle’s robotic arm. A long time ago, when they were just uncle and nephew, Ben would ask to see it. Luke would agree, and came up with a new story every time when the inevitable question about how he lost his hand came up.

The memory seems to flow between them as Ben accepts, allowing the man to help him back on his feet, his other hand still tangled with Rey’s. The silence persists for a few more seconds as Luke seems to scan him the way he did after each of their missions. His eyes roam over his shoulders, arms and stomach, searching for any wound, then meet his again.

“Good job,” Luke mumbles with a nod.

His hand brushes some invisible dust from his shoulder with a metallic noise, sending more memories to Ben’s mind as he nods in return. A family conversation may be required in the next few days; but for now, Ben feels at peace. For the first time in his life, the anger that used to be a constant companion has vanished, leaving him with something his family has always been known for: hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue coming this weekend ♥
> 
> \--- You can find me on twitter at @reylolujah


	7. Epilogue

The Alderaan sun is shining its light all over the city, indifferent to the faint shape of its moons that remain high in the clear sky. It’s incredibly high for this time of the year, but no one is complaining: the mountains look even more majestic with the light hitting their summit. The sunrise hasn’t been so majestic in decades, which some see as a sign of peace. Ben isn’t sure how much he’s inclined to believe that the Force would clear the sky of a few clouds to manifest its satisfaction. He does feel at peace. No voice has been tormenting him for the last months, beside Rey’s snores in the early morning. For the first time in his life, he understands what balance is. There’s still doubt sometimes, and the shadow of the trauma left behind by generations before him- but he’s not alone anymore. He gets to wake up next to his soulmate every day, and learn to be a family again with his parents and his uncle.

Everything changed after Palpatine’s death. For the first time in the history of the Skywalker family, everyone was able to talk openly and heal together. It took a long time, and everything isn’t perfect, but Ben is now able to say he feels part of this family. He learned a lot- about Luke’s aunt and uncle, about what the war actually was like for his family and the struggles they encountered. This version is far less heroic than the one everyone retells, but Ben likes it more. He learned to know and understand each side of this family and their story, and even make peace with its most conflicted elements.

A smile curls his lips as he watches the new addition to the gallery. Many members of the palace disapproved of his decision, but Ben doesn’t regret it. It was about time his grandfather found his place back into the family as well, forgiven by his children and now understood by his grandson. Finding an artist willing to paint the infamous ex-Sith lord hadn’t been an easy task, but Ben found the rare gem in a young artist from Chandrila. She watched every archived hologram Ben was able to find on Coruscant and delivered the perfect portrait. Her brush captured the conflict in his grandfather’s eyes, as well as his crooked grin, representing the duality of the man Ben wishes he’d known personally. There are so many questions he would’ve asked, so many fears that could’ve been voiced much earlier and without shame. The name painted at the bottom of the frame is probably his favorite part. Not a mention of Darth Vader, or of his Sith past: just Anakin, the first Skywalker welcomed to the royal gallery of the Organa family, placed right next to his wife, the Queen Padme Amidala. Her portrait’s frame stands out among all the silver ones, golden and crowned with delicately forged petals. A small reminder of the audacity of Rey’s gift, and a good anecdote to tell when visitors point it out.

Ben spent a few nights listening to the rest of the holograms the Coruscant library gave him. Getting to know his grandfather through these had been strangely addicting, and much more reassuring than he’d anticipated. Some security files had been harder to watch than others, but seeing these historical moments and his doubts as he gave in to the darkness had comforted him in his choice to forgive him for his mistakes. Further research gave him more information on Anakin’s childhood on Tatooine, and with it a new project for the gallery. Finding any visual documentation of Shmi Skywalker revealed itself to be impossible, but Ben was determined to honor her memory and place in the family as well.

His smile widens in the peaceful silence, a warm feeling in his chest soon traveling to his hand as Rey joins him and laces their fingers together. “Ready?”

The corridor seems brighter as Ben turns to her, his hand reveling in her touch as he nods.

She looks radiant, her eyes soft on him and incredibly grounding. Ben can’t help thinking about her as a tiny sun, fierce and loving and so strong. These last months on Alderaan have brought her so much, it’s impossible not to hear it in their bond. Ben can feel her happiness at the warm welcome his family gave her, and the feeling of belonging that comes with it. He can see the tears threatening to bead down her cheeks every time his mother braids her hair or offers a new gown, even if she never wears them too long. She confessed, once, in the safety of the night, that she’d never felt beautiful until his mother helped her put on her wedding dress. Every outfit she’d ever worn had been carefully chosen for her, incredibly uncomfortable and based on the current fashion she knew nothing of.

Ben isn’t the only one who went through consequent changes. The days following Palpatine’s defeat were incredibly challenging for Rey, split between her newfound freedom and an ever-present guilt. The first nights were marked by nightmares, all filled with guilt. Luke assured Ben this was a natural reaction after taking someone’s life, even someone as evil as Palpatine: but he didn’t know about the other part of her, the one fighting not to mourn the man but begging to. It took some convincing before she agreed to talk to his uncle, but looking back at it, Ben doesn’t regret it. Rey hasn’t stopped blooming since that day, fighting her demons one by one with a strength Ben hopes he’ll find in himself for what’s waiting for him today.

“Ready,” he replies in a breath.

**\- - -**

The sun is blinding, high and hot when Ben stands up, sweating and breathless. The name Challenge of the Body is rather appropriate: his legs haven’t felt so sore since his Jedi training years, threatening to let go of him at any moment. They’ve been climbing for hours in complete silence save for a few chuckles and grunts. Ben always thought he’d climb Appenza Peak by himself, but bringing Rey with him was like evidence. It had first crossed his mind the day they met, then again when his mother addressed the subject of his accession to the throne. Ben wasn’t sure then, and still isn’t to this day, but accepted to pass the three challenges to the crown as part of his decision taking process. Both challenges of the Heart and Mind were done soon after their victory. His Challenge of the Mind was far more interesting than he’d predicted, and consisted of an alliance between the Resistance and the Senate. One of his more personal projects was to make sure History archives mentioned Palpatine’s treason, and didn’t forget to mention his grandfather’s return to the light. For his Challenge of the Heart, Ben planned a visit to the most secluded planets, in hopes to prevent more children from going through what happened to Rey.

His hand finds her as they stand in silence, catching their breath and watching the landscape from here.

“It’s beautiful,” Ben murmurs while lacing his fingers with Rey’s.

The palace looks significantly smaller from here. It also looks less important with the city around it and the shape of more cities and mountains. Ben wonders if his ancestors had the same thoughts during their own climb, but something tells him they didn’t. Where any pretender to the throne probably felt pride and ownership at this sight, Ben’s eyes keep shifting back to the horizon.

“How are you feeling?” Rey asks in a murmur.

Her voice brings him back softly, drawing a smile back on his lips as Ben watches her for a moment. “Good.” He feels her contentment through the bond as he focuses on her freckles, letting his feelings and thoughts mingle. The words leave him before he can think of a better way to sort them out. “Let’s not get married.”

“What?”

Ben realizes his mistake when Rey’s hand squeezes his as she searches through the bond for further explanation. His eyes shift to hers in an attempt to calm the nervousness he can feel growing in her. “You’ve never looked happier,” he continues, his hand returning the light squeeze. 

“I am. I’d be happy wherever you are.”

“How about being happy everywhere?”

The bond stops buzzing for a second, his words distracting Rey from her search. Slowly, Ben lets her feel the images that crossed his mind and explore them with him, one by one.

“We don’t have a ship,” she points out after a few minutes.

“Yet.”

Her eyes follow Ben’s, scanning through the fields surrounding the palace and stopping on the Falcon, landed in its usual and very accessible spot. The hint of a grint blooms on her lips. “Are you implying…”

“It would only be the fifth time.”

A nervous chuckle passes between them as they realize the absurdity of this idea. They keep laughing incredulously as they climb down the mountain, and again as they board the Falcon hand in hand, waves of excitement and adrenaline running through the bond.

Ben’s heart beats faster with each step he takes, memories coming back to him as he guides Rey through his father’s freighter. He remembers his father telling him about his childhood on Corellia in the captain’s quarters before bed time. He remembers Chewie teaching him to play derajik, and his father showing him how to pilot the ship, promising that one day, it’d be his. This probably wasn’t how he’d expected it to happen, but Ben can’t help thinking his father will find it amusing once the anger has passed. His mother will be delighted, though- she might even buy them more time. A laugh leaves him as he enters the cockpit and instinctively claims the pilot’s seat.

“Where are we going?”

Rey drags him away from his thoughts once again, her smile betraying her amusement at his daydream. “Surprise me,” he replies with a shrug.

A frown makes its way on her face, her eyes scanning the map before them on the panel. “There.”

Her finger lands on a small point beyond the Outer Rim, in the Unknown Regions. The point grows bigger as she zooms in, an obvious addition from his father based on Luke’s travels.

“There’s nothing to see on Ahch-To,” Ben warns as she enters the coordinates. “Nobody.”

“Mmh. I don’t want to see anybody. I think we deserve a break.”

Her fingers keep dancing along the tablet, confirming her choice and starting the engines.

“It’s a three day trip,” Ben continues, but he’s already out of focus. The idea of being away, just the two of them, sounds like a dream he’s more than willing to chase.

“Ah, if only we could find a way to stay busy.”

Another chuckle leaves them both. Ben has never felt lighter than he is right now. Careful not to startle Rey, he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her closer, looking up to find her eyes. “But you said you wanted to see forests. Oceans.”

Her hands come to rest on his shoulders. “I still do.”

“It’ll be a long trip.”

“I guess I can endure your company a little more.”

A shiver travels down Ben’s body at her words, his heart beating faster as she comes closer. The seat squeaks a little when she joins Ben on it, straddling him carefully with her thighs on either side of his waist. His hand comes to push a strand of hair away from her face, lingering on her cheek to feel her warmth. He isn’t sure he’ll ever get tired of counting the freckles covering her nose and cheeks.

“My father will be worried sick about his ship,” he adds as she grabs at his tunic. “He might chase us across the galaxy to get it back.”

“That sounds fun already.”

Her lips brush his, sending another wave of shivers to roll down his spine and drawing a few words from him, whispered. “At your command, captain.”

He can feel her grin before she plants a quick kiss on his lips, her excitement palpable through the bond as she turns around and starts setting the controls. Ben straightens up, his arm around her waist pulling her closer until her back melts into his chest. He’s still kissing her shoulder when the ship starts with a few tremors, forcing him to focus back on the massive freighter about to launch. With his hands above Rey’s, he guides her through the process and risks a glance at the window as the familiar noise announcing a departure echoes around the durasteel walls.

The colorful scenery of his home planet fills his heart with a multitude of feelings. Alderaan would always hold a special place in his heart. This land saw him come to life and grow through the years, for better and worse- but something about the way his heart beats faster as the landscape disappears behind them tells him this might be the best mistake he’s ever made. His feeling is only reinforced as Rey flashes him a smile above her shoulders. He isn’t quite sure yet about a throne, but there’s one thing he knows. No matter what planet they land on, Rey is, by far his favorite home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this ending was as satisfying for you as it was for me! A huge thank you to HarpiaHarpyja for her help on this epilogue, and to everyone who's been reading this story. Thank you for your support in any form, every hit, kudo and comment was a little light in my days. I hope this story was one for you too ♥


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